


Lost in Time; Looking for the Present

by Lady_Blackhawk



Series: Captain America and Lady Blackhawk Adventures [1]
Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Cross over with DC, F/M, post winter soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackhawk/pseuds/Lady_Blackhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a casual stroll through his own exhibit after the events of the Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers stumbles on a rather odd woman, who speaks kind of funny, and doesn't really seem to know a lot about his adventures. Upon further discovery it turns out that this Zinda Blake isn't just a silly woman, she was a pilot during WWII for a group called the Blackhawks which existed in a different Universe with people like Batman and Superman. Through their journey Zinda falls into his world, they both fall in love, rescue people, and learn how to live in the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lady At the Smithsonian

**Author's Note:**

> So....this was a brain child that came out of a conversation between my friends and I. We love the Birds of Prey and we LOVED Lady Blackhawk and we concluded that her perfect match would be Captain America because....you know WWII buddies and 40's nostalgia...plus the whole lost in time thing, which consequently is the name of this ship should you choose to board.

Steve Rogers was exhausted; there was too much going on in his head to stay in his DC apartment. He needed to get away and what better way to escape from the troubles of the past few weeks than to go to the Air and Space Museum, thought Steve sarcastically as he walked inside the museum. Though he admitted to himself that it wouldn’t change his mind and it wouldn’t take back the events that had occurred. All it would do was remind him of what he had lost, what was now lost in the notes and pages of history. He vowed however that he would not go into his exhibit.

He walked around various sections, looking at the Wright brothers’ display, looking at the early planes, the ingenuity of their designs and some of the early artifacts helped him relax. He then headed to the space area. It was amazing to find out that America had landed on the moon. That kind of achievement could not be overlooked. Eventually, however, despite his best efforts to avoid it, the soldier found himself back at his own display, starring at a picture of his best friend, Bucky Barns. He looked at the blue wall that had his picture and biography on it wondering what his poor friend was doing now. Did he finally remember? Or had he simply found his way back to the people who controlled him. He wished he knew, he missed Bucky and only wanted him back.

He adjusted his cap with a sigh.

A blonde young woman walked into the exhibit wearing a black pencil skirt, a white button down shirt and a badge which indicated that she was a tour guide. Her hair was long and was almost curled, parted on the side. She could have been a bombshell, thought Steve, but the thought was quickly pushed away from his mind.

“And this is the Captain America wing, the fella on the side here is the man himself,” she had faint traces of a faded Southern accent. He had not seen her before. “And these are all the things Cappie here accomplished. Oh, sure he thought he was a grand man, but he looks more like a fuddy-duddy.” The way she spoke, “And to your right are his Howling Puppies,” A few of the kids on the tour laughed, “Back in m….during WWII the Blackhawks was where the real fighting took place.” Blackhawks? What was a Blackhawk, other than a bird? “The Blackhawks were master pilots and they only ever let one gal join their team, a real spitfire that one.”

Steve moved closer towards the beautiful blonde woman, “But, Captain America is certainly an attractive fellow, look at that chin, and those eyes, he looks like he’d be sweet as Apple Pie, though he’s prolly not a big contender to my Blackhawks.”

“Who are these Blackhawks?” asked Steve

“Best bunch of pilots anyone’s ever seen.”

“The thing is…” said Steve taking off his cap, the kids on the tour gasped, “There weren’t any Blackhawks during the war….I’ve never heard of them.”

The woman let out a sigh, folding her arms, “Aren’t you a little old to be on a Middle School tour?”

“I happen to like coming here.”

“Need an ego boost, darling?”

“Just remembering old friends,” supplied the Captain.

“Ah, kids, why don’t ya head over and see if you measure up to Captain America’s standards,” said the woman indicating the display to their left. The kids didn’t want to move, Captain America was standing right in front of them, but their teacher had come over and hurried them along.

“Steve Rogers,” he introduced himself cordially.

“Zinda Blake,” she replied and unfolded her hand to shake his briefly, “But I know who you are sugar, you’re famous in this world.”

“This world?” asked Steve.

“Uh…all over the world,” corrected the woman, but Steve eyed her, “Sorry, I’m still adjusting to being here.”

“Here?”

“Just moved to DC from Go…..good ol’ Texas, so it’s been weird. And you though, buddy, still adjusting to not being an ice pop.”

Steve looked at her, the way she talked…no, it couldn’t be it was just…no. Clearly, after seeing Bucky he’s in shock and not seeing things clearly. There is no way this woman could be from WWII, especially not with the historical inaccuracies in her statements.*

“This is my last tour for today, want to go out for a drink or something?” asked the forward woman.

“Uh, sure…mind if I hang around for the rest of the tour?”

Zinda sent him a sly smile, “I think the kids’ll enjoy that.”

So Steve hung around the rest of the tour, answering the kids’ questions, telling them funny stories and charming the pants off the teacher. The kids left an hour later and Steve waited as Zinda went to change. She came out in jeans, a white tank-top and a brown leather jacket draped over her shoulder.

“Now how about that drink?” asked Steve. Zinda Blake grinned. The two walked out of the museum where Captain America’s bike was parked a block away.

“Aint that a foxy ride,” said Zinda, “You got a helmet for that?”

Steve lowered his head sheepishly, “I’ll take that as a no,” she laughed. He hoped onto the bike, she put on her jacket and got on behind him, her arms came together around his torso, “I bet you do this to all the ladies, put on that good old boy charm, maybe a line about how it was in your day and get them on this machine.”

“Ah, you’ve discovered my tactics.”

“But seriously,” said Zinda as he turned the bike on, “Have you been on a date since you’ve been back from your little nap?”

“Dating really hasn’t been a priority,” he replied and they sped off towards the bar. It was a little place, a few blocks from his apartment. The owner was a nice older man who had served in Korea.

“Capt’n Rogers,” said the old man.

“Ernie,” replied Steve, “Can I get a beer for me and…” He turned to his blonde friend.

“I’ll have the same,” she replied to the bartender. The bartender shrugged and poured the two beers. 

The couple sat down at a booth by the window, “So, come here often?” asked Zinda.

“On occasion, the bartender, Ernie is a nice guy, we talk shop sometimes. He served in Korea.”

“Korea?” Asked Zinda, “Now there was a hooey! Just bad, bad business, though I hear Vietnam was worse”

“So I’ve read,” said Steve, taking a drink. Zinda followed and together the two drank the whole glass with little to no effect.

“Well, looks like the Captain can hold his liquor,”

“The way you talk,” said Steve, “It’s almost as if…”

“As if….” Tried Zinda, but Steve shook his head, “As if I were from your era?”

He looked blankly at her, “Yes, I mean your attitude, your vocabulary it just all screams the 1940’s.”

“You ain’t far off,” Zinda grinned and called to the man at the bar, “Two more over here.” As they got their beers Steve continued to stare at the woman in front of him. She was so raw, so strong. This woman looked like she had seen and done so much, a real gun rifling kind of woman.

“Are you serious?”

“About me bein’ from the 40’s? You darn tooting I am…not,” said Zinda, “I’m just a regular girl from Texas who moved to DC two weeks ago, just in time to see them giant carriers plummet right into the water, nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry about that,”

Why did she lie? This was Steve Rogers; the man was in all the papers since she arrived in this strange world. Clearly if anyone was going to understand, it was going to be him. But maybe it just wasn’t the right time. Was the right time ever going to come? However she got here, it would have to remain a secret…at least for now.

“What made you want to come to DC?” asked Steve, “I know I needed to get out of New York…and the job at SHIELD.”

“It was…a spur of the moment kind of decision,” supplied Zinda, “So…have you discovered the fabulous music of this…the present?”

“Sadly, I have,” Steve took another drink of his beer, “It’s not very good. There are some interesting things, I like Rock n Roll… and Jazz and Blues which granted was around in my time, but this modern stuff and those clubs…they’re not really my thing.”

“Mine either; I prefer a good old fashioned bar to one of those clubs. Although…my gals and I once dragged another one of us to a male strip joint. Oh, you should-a seen that birdie. Of course, if she were here, she’d have my hide. We all promised her we wouldn’t bring it up again, but it was too good.”

Steve couldn’t believe this woman. After finishing off the beers and carrying on their conversation Zinda abruptly and boldly invited Steve to her apartment. Reluctantly the man out of time agreed. However when they exited the bar, a red headed woman pulled up in a slick black Corvette.

“Can you point me to the American History Museum; I’m picking up a founding father.”

“Founding father?” asked Steve, “Really?”

“I’ve been busy, sue me. Now get in, we got a sighting.”

Steve turned Zinda, “I’m sorry, this is work related…rain check?”

“No worries,” said Zinda with a salute, “I could use another round and I’ll probably catch a ride back.”

Steve Rogers smiled at her, “Duty calls,” and got into the car. Zinda watched him go, that red head chick was on TV, part of that rag tag team of Avengers. Well, she supposed, they weren’t Justice League, but they seemed capable.

“He was seen at the Air and Space today at 1600 hours,” said Natasha.

“What?” Cap looked shocked at her, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why?”'

“I was there just an hour ago.” Steve couldn’t believe it, him and Bucky could have run into each other.

“The cameras picked him up in the reflection of his own display.”

“Did he…” Steve couldn’t bring himself to ask that question.

“He didn’t hurt anyone,” supplied Natasha as they drove off, stopping at a red light, “So…she seemed cute. She got a name?”

“Zinda,” said Steve, “She’s a tour guide at the Smithsonian.”

“At least she’s not a fossil,” supplied the assassin as the light turned green and they continued to the Air and Space museum.


	2. Maybe There's Something There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some minor spoilers for the Birds of Prey comic, but if you're reading from a Captain America only perspective it merely serve as a blurb about Zinda's life. She is from the comics the Birds of Prey. So names that will get thrown around are Barbara Gordon (Oracle) Helena Bertinelli (Huntress), Dinah Lance (Black Canary) and Big Barda are just a few. There will be some introductions perhaps much later in the story.   
> Also if you're reading this from Birds of Prey perspective I realized that this might work to explain why Zinda doesn't show up in New 52.   
> Keep an eye out for Marvel and DC Easter Eggs.

The security cameras had given them squat, except confirm that Bucky was at the exhibit. There was a clear figure approaching Bucky’s panel, and he stared at it far too long to simply be an average tourist. The height and built measured up with what they had known about Bucky. The reflection on the glass confirmed that it was in fact him. Steve wished there had been more, but one three second glance and he was gone, washed into the crowds of people. Was Bucky starting to remember, Steve wondered. He hoped. Why else would your average assassin on the run stop at the Smithsonian and have a nice stroll?

            “Can we track him out of the building?”

            “One last camera,” said Natasha and the view on the screen changed to a camera that looked at the rear of the building.  They saw the same hoody that Bucky was wearing in the previous shot get on what looked like a slick motorcycle, black, built for speed, and drive off.

            “Nice bike,” Natasha had mouthed and Steve heard it. He sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“What’s our next move?”

            “Did you review the Winter Soldier file?” asked Natasha

            “I’ll have to take another look at it. But I gotta say, I’m not good at Russian.”

            “If you want I can stop by tonight and help you go through it?”  

            Steve nodded, “I’d appreciate that.”

            “Not like I have a day job.”  

            Steve stood upright, “Good,” he replied, “Now if you don’t mind, I think…”

            “I can drop you off back at the bar,” suggested Natasha with a sly smile, “And then I can see if any of the DC traffic cams picked him up, from there we may be able to triangulate where he’s been staying.”

            Steve gave a faint nod, his mind still on other things.

            Natasha drove him back to the bar to get his bike, though Natasha suspected, Steve hoped that his cute lady friend would still be there.  There was a small glimmer of hope on his face when he jumped out of the car and headed inside the bar.

            He greeted the bartender again before taking a quick look around. Sitting at the bar was the same blond bombshell he had left an hour before. This time she had a bottle of beer to her lips, she was sitting at the very end chatting up the new guy that just came on shift.

            “And then I told ‘em, I said you put her picture up there or you’ll be sorry and they did.” Zinda was very firm, “Ah that Barda was a swell gal, best there ever was, cept for maybe mah other birds.”  

            “Birds huh?” asked Steve. Zinda turned around and saw that he had come over.

            “Uh, yeah that’s what we called ourselves, not quite as flashy as those Avengers, but it did the job.”

            “Another team of superheroes?” asked Steve.

            “Nah, nothin’ like that,” she said quickly, “Just a bunch of gals with too much time on their hands,”

            “Well they sound interesting. I made a friend just a few weeks ago, works at the Vet center, name’s Sam Wilson, good guy, great flier.”  

            “Well, I’ll be, I’m a vet too.”

            “You are?” asked Steve, “Which branch?”

            “Air Force of course, silly” she took a swig of her beer and patter the chair next to hers, “What about your pal? He a pilot?”

            “Uh…” Steve hadn’t realized what he had said and didn’t move, “Not exactly. Say…would you like to um…maybe we can have coffee at my apartment? I’d like to make up for leaving you so abruptly.”

            Zinda eyed him and raised her eyebrow; well he was certainly more forward than the other tour girls had said. They called him Captain Shy.

            “Ain’t that a beauty, I get to see where the Cap’n lives,” said Zinda grinning at him, “Sounds like fun and then you can tell me all about your little adventures during the good ol’ days.”

            “You seem like the kind of person who would appreciate it,” said Steve and watched her finish off her beer before walking out of the bar.

            They took the very short ride to his apartment which had been spruced up by bullet proof glass to replace his regular windows.

            His apartment had a few “homey” touches to it. There were pictures of his team and other things he had picked up from SHIELD or from that internet thing, and put in his bedroom, there was one of Buck too. But other than the pictures it was rustic, but friendly apartment that reminded Zinda of her apartment back in Gotham.

            Steve showed her around, though there wasn’t a whole lot to see. It was a two bedroom apartment with a nice living room, covered in books and even had a small TV. There had been a lot of cleaning to do when he was released from the hospital. Sam had been a big help to him, helping him clean everything while adding a few little extra things to help Steve adjust to the 21st century.

            “Would you like some music?” asked Steve as he walked toward his sound system.

            She followed his gaze, “Hey, this looks just like the one I have at home. Whatcha got music wise?” He shows her his ever growing collection of music. She walked over and looked through the records, “Hey, ya got Benny Goodman.”

            “You know Benny Goodman?”

            “Sing Sing Sing, 1937, I danced the night away on that one. Granted I was only fourteen when the song…when I first heard the song. But woo, did it change a lot for me….and Judy Garland, now there was a swell woman.”

            “You know you talk as if—nevermind, would you like some coffee?” What are you thinking Steve? This woman wasn’t from the 1940’s. Clearly he’d been hit on the head one too many times so now he was seeing things. Not everyone is you and Bucky, a voice reminded him.  

            “That’be great. But none of that mamby pamby, girly things, straight up black, two sugar.”

            “My kind of woman,” said Steve without thinking, “Feel free to put on what you like.”

            She put on Benny Goodman and just let the music settle in around the room, “I haven’t listened to the good stuff in ages.” She commented.

            “Good stuff?”

            “You know what I mean,” Zinda crossed to him, “All they have these days is that Rap and hip hop stuff.”

            “And the way people dance these days,” added Steve with a shudder turning to face her.

            “Oh, I know,” gushed Zinda and dropped on the couch, “Kids today just don’t know how good they got it. Oh gosh, that makes me sound so much older than I am.”

            “And how old—” Steve cut himself off, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t ask a beautiful woman such a question.”

            “Ah, its fine. At least you don’t freak out every time I flash my AARP card.”

            “AARP? Really?” asked Steve, “You’re…”

            “I know,” said Zinda, “Trust me, I know. I’ve heard ‘em all.”

            “How did you even—”

            “Please, Rogers, a lady never reveals all her secrets on a first date.” Yet there she was, spilling her secrets like a caged canary. She hadn’t mentioned being from his time when they were in a bar, but now she brought up the AARP card. Maybe it was the excitement of meeting someone from her time…

Cap brought in the coffee and placed it on the table by the couch, “So what is the grand ol’ Captain America doin’ now that he aint workin for those government stooges.”

            “Uh…” The question had caught him off guard, “Just trying to find my place, really,” he replied taking a sip of the coffee, “I’m help Sam down at the VA. Good people.”

            “I get that, I did my duty,” said Zinda saluting, “Made my country proud. Only female pilot in my group. I miss being a pilot.”

            “I bet you were good.”

            “I aint bad that’s for sure.” She finally grabbed the mug in front of her and took a test sip, “Now that’s real coffee. Nicely done,”

            “Do you want to, on Friday maybe, go down to the Veteran center with me?”

She smiled, “Sounds like a plan.” She took another sip, “Damn, this is good.”

            “So do you like working at the museum?”

            “It pays the bills,” she said honestly, “Not as glamorous as piloting an aircraft, I’ll tell ye that. And those questions they ask. I mean you’d think none of ‘em had ever taken a history class…I gotta ask you though, what was that with your film career?”

            Steve cringed, “It was…something to do. It was better than sitting in some lab, or just sitting at home. It wasn’t long though, before I went overseas.”

            “You looked like a dancin’ monkey.”

            Steve chuckled, recalling his sketch of the day he found out about Bucky being MIA, a monkey on a unicycle.

            “I felt that way.” Steve was looking at this woman as she polished off the cup of coffee.

            “Well, this was fun, but I best be getting home.”

            “I can give you a ride.”

            “Oh, no worries I only live five blocks from here.”

            “Are you sure?” She stood and Steve stood with her.

            “I’m positive.”

            Steve walked her out the door and she kissed him on the cheek, laughing a little at the blush that spread across his cheek. She then took out a card and handed it to him.

            “My phone number.” She winked at him and left the apartment. Steve watched her go until she disappeared down the stairs.

            Closing the door Steve turned to the file sitting on his table. Maybe they hadn't discussed his "good ol' days," but she made him laugh, and made him wonder that maybe dating in this century did't have to be bad. He could meet someone and he could be happy.

 A knock on the door startled him, but it was expected. He opened it to find the incredible Natalia Romanova standing at his doorway wearing skinny jeans and a leather jacket.

            “Caught the blonde on the way out. She’s cute.” She glances at the table, “And she stayed for coffee. This is good.”

            “Can you translate and not focus on my love life?” suggested Steve.

            “Hey, I was born to multitask,” said Natasha. She took the file and dropped onto his couch, “And she liked your coffee…”

            “Natasha.” Said Steve more strongly this time. Natasha simply chuckled before turning to the file.


	3. Musings of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zinda tells Cap a little of the truth and some news comes in about the Winter Soldier....also Natasha is wonderful.

Steve had long fallen asleep, but Natasha had continued to translate. The mighty captain had showed her his attempts to translate the file, but with very little success. At least he gave it a try, thought Natasha. He was such a lonely person, she also noted. Sure, he saved the world from an alien invasion after taking the world’s longest nap, but how many friends did he have—correction. How many friends did Steve have that did not include assassins or superheroes?

            There was Sam, the two of them seemed to be hanging out. Sam even sat by him when Steve was in the hospital. Sure, Natasha was a friend, but she fit into the assassins or superhero category. Finally there was this new lady of his. The blonde, Zinda….something or other.

            So what had she found about this Winter Soldier, an urban legend that’s not really an urban legend? He was born James Buchanan Barnes, in 1945 he fell off a train and was found by Soviet forces.  He was in fact alive and was put on ice, much like his buddy Steve. A man named Aleksander Lukin was the one who had found Bucky. But his ultimate captor was Vasily Karpov. Karpov, Natasha knew from KGB files, had been dead since the late 80’s from some kind of cancer. Karpov was the one who wiped Bucky’s memories the first time and made him into the Winter Soldier.

            Though it is unclear how someone on the Winter Soldier project ended up giving it to Zola. That part was conveniently redacted. The poor soldier was revived in 1954. The file stated when Zola was there, when Bucky started working for HYDRA instead of the KGB, and all the times he was put on ice.

            Despite the redactions, Natasha had managed to put together a history of Bucky’s life as a Soviet and HYDRA weapon. It helped some, but it still led to one problem. Bucky was still missing and while the file had given a lot of information about the origins of the Winter Soldier, it didn’t help to pin down where Bucky might go.

            Would he go anywhere?

            Natasha did not even remember falling asleep. She did remember waking up.

            “Morning Natasha,” said Steve holding coffee. She eyed him, “It’s from that coffee place you like.” She grabbed the offered cup from him, seeing the logo. “How did it go?”

            “Well,” she handed him the translation she made. She sipped her coffee while he read over it.

            “That’s…”

            “Yeah,” replied Natasha, “It doesn’t tell us anything about where he might go or what he might do. But it gives us a framework for what we can do to restore his memories if you find him and get him to come with you.”

            “He went to the Smithsonian, maybe he’s starting to remember.”

            “Maybe, but one visit to the Smithsonian doesn’t mean anything. Do you want me to maybe send this to someone?”

            “Dr. Banner maybe?” asked Steve.

            “That’s a possibility,” agreed Natasha standing up. She took the file, “I’ll talk to him…maybe Stark too…I also heard of another Doctor…McCoy, I think his name was…”

            “Good, I’ll keep looking here.” Said Steve.

            “You mean you’re going to go back to the Smithsonian to that cute blond.”

            “Sure,” said Steve with a chuckle, walking her out. Though Steve had no knowledge of Zinda’s schedule he was planning on sifting through his own history for clues.

            He went back to the Smithsonian, there was a guard there, an old fellow. He served in WWII. Said his father was a general in the army and was present when Steve was supposed to get some sort of kind of award that he failed to show up to. He was nice guy, said his name was Max and always let him inside without a problem when he was on duty.

            He liked him, he was a good guy, by Steve’s standards.

            “Hey Steve,” said Max, “Thanks for talking to my boss, you really saved my job.”

            “It was the least I could do,” said Steve recalling that it was on Max’s watch that the Captain America suit conveniently went missing, “How’s it going?”

            “Good, the wife’s still bugging me to retire. But there’s just something about putting on a suit and going to work every day. You know?”

            “I do.” Said Steve. “Listen, do you know anything about that new tour guide, Zinda Blake.”

            Max chuckled, “Sure. Starting working here a couple of weeks ago. She’s funny, a little odd, but good overall. She caught your eye?”

            “Something like that.”

            “Well good for you.” Said Max and patted Steve on the back.

            Steve walked away from him and headed to his exhibit, even if he hated to refer to it as such. There was no one there yet, far too early in the morning for the majority of the crowd, so he sat down in the small theater and just looked at the footage he had seen a thousand times before. But each time his gaze lingered as long as possible on Bucky. There was his best friend, smiling, grinning like an idiot.

            “You aren’t stalking are you?” asked a woman to his left. Steve turned and saw Zinda.

            “No, just remembering an old friend.”

            Zinda looked at the screen before sliding to sit next to him, “Bucky Barnes right?”

            “Yeah,” replied Steve.

            “You rescued him and a bunch-a other guys from a secret HYDRA facility.”

            Steve nodded, “He was my best friend, hell he was my only friend for a long time. I…”

            “You miss him.” It wasn’t a question, “I know that feeling all too well. Lose a lot of people doing what we do. There’s a price for freedom.”

            “But what if…what if you knew you had to help a friend, even if you didn’t know where they were?”

            “Then I’d get my ass up and find them. Plain and simple,” said Zinda. She turned him, “I gotta confession to make.”

            “You don’t really work here?” asked Steve laughing a little.

            “Nah, I work here, but I didn’t move here from Texas.” She took a deep breath. After such a wonderful, yet simple night with Steve where there was no pressure, no expectations, he made her feel safe. So maybe she was being impulsive, and irrational and the skipper and Dinah would have her hide later, but at that moment, telling Steve the truth seemed like a good course of action. It was a good idea, especially if she really wanted a relationship with him and she kind of did. He was like her, lost, confused by the present and despite everything feeling completely alone. It wasn’t a completely selfish reason. It was for her and for him, so that they could start a possible relationship off with the truth and without feeling so completely alone, “I kinda landed here….not here, here, actually….I just woke up one day and I was somewhere else and everything I knew was gone. I figure you can relate to that.” Steve nodded, “Before that I was on a different world.”

            “Like Thor?”

            “Who’s Thor?” she asked, “Oh was he that fella with the long hair and the silly hammer he likes to swing around?”

            “It shoots lightening.”

            “Fine, so it’s an impressive hammer,” she laughed, “Not quite like that. But sure. I guess that’s it. Before that I was dumped in the present like you.”

            “When?”

“1948, but I did serve, in a special branch, during the War…well…a different war, sort of.”

“Are you an alien?”

“Born and bred American, thank you very much.” She responded with slight offense, “It’s…really complicated. Point is though, I served in the war, kicked some Nazi ass and a few years later got transported to the present and then to this world here.”

“That must be really lonely.”

“Sometimes, but ah pull through it. I’m a big girl, in case ye couldn’t tell.” Steve nodded.

“Have you thought about getting your pilot’s license?”

“I have one. Not sure how valid it is in this world, but I could go for it again. I know my stuff.”

“I have no doubt.”

“Why, you lookin’ for a pilot?”

            “Well, my friend Natasha seems to know how to fly a plane, flew me to Germany right before the battle of New York.”

            “Would that be that redhead that fought with ya?”

            “Yes, she’s something.” Zinda’s smile fell, “She kept trying to set me up on dates with random women we worked with.”

            What Steve saw was a beautiful and strong woman in front of him.

 What he didn’t see was a young man staring at him and Zinda from the corner. His hair was shorter now, he cut it himself. His metal arm was intact, but ached, the lose wiring was troublesome. He kept looking at the fondness between the two. There was a bit of a silence with those two exchanging some kind of goofy grins like two kids who just realized they liked each other.

            “Just here about Bucky then?” Zinda finally said.

            “Yeah,” said Steve, “I miss him. He was my partner, my best friend.” Steve repeated that. He needed to repeat it. God, he missed Bucky more than anyone else. “We met when we were kids. He got me out of quite a few jams in the day.”

            “He died during your capture of Zola, correct?”

            “…right…” said Steve, his gaze leaving her and turning to the floor. Zinda wondered why he almost looked like he was lying. No, supposed Zinda he just didn’t want to talk about his dead best friend. Zinda could understand that.

            The young man watching them decided to finally enter the theater area and sat down in the back, watching the video of Bucky and Steve.

            “What happened there?” asked Zinda.

            “This was after Bucky was rescued. There was a camera man who wanted to capture us. I told Bucky how awful he looked when I got him out and he told me I looked like the strong man from the circus. This was in Italy. A few days later we went to this bar just outside of Naples, and I asked him and the others to join me on the hunt for HYDRA.”

            Zinda gave Steve a warm smile, and the Winter Soldier had a small smile on his face. But he twitched and retreated when he heard that name. Those horrid people who took away everything he was. His fists clenched, but his metal arm squeaked due to damages and unclenched reflexively.

            The Winter Soldier, an assassin, a weapon, was all he had known for decades. Where was he going to go now? If he was this Bucky person, and he sure looked like him, maybe the place to go for him was Italy. Maybe something there could help him remember.

            He got up as Steve and Zinda remained captivated. Steve spent hours at the museum, helping Zinda with her tour. The people were quite excited and even one of the higher curators of the museum thanked Steve for helping out.

            He and Zinda agreed to meet up that Saturday for a trip the VA to meet Sam and the other veterans. As he arrived home around ten o’clock he found Natasha already there, sitting in the same chair that weeks ago had been occupied by the now former director of SHIELD.

            “I need a new lock,” stated Steve, only slightly irritated.

            “Don’t pout,” Replied Natasha, “It’s just little old me. I have news.”

            “Really?”

            “He stole a jet around eleven this morning, flight manifesto originally had the plane going to Switzerland, but I’m not sure where Bucky would take it.”

            “Can we tag the plane with those….p….s…g thing?”

            “You mean a GPS?” asked Natasha trying not to giggle, “No, there’s no way to track it if it wasn’t marked before take-off.”

            “So we’re nowhere again.”

            “I wouldn’t say that,” Natasha grinned, “Clint is currently doing some work in Switzerland. I gave him a ring and he’s willing to help us.”

            Steve smiled, “He’ll let us know as soon as he knows something.” He hadn't known Clint for very long, granted he hadn't known anyone particularly long, but given what the archer had done at the battle of New York, Steve knew this was a man he could trust. 

          


	4. Fun at the VA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a reference to another Marvel character here somewhere. See if you can guess which super I alluded to.

Saturday was a surprisingly happy day, so much that he got up at 5 and met up with Sam Wilson, aka the Falcon for a jog. Sam, much like their first jog together was there first, before Steve arrived and proceeded to pass him.  

            “On your left, I know, I know,” said Sam, having long given up trying to compete with Captain America. But after the third or so circle, Steve decided to be nice and kept up with Sam’s easy (read slower) pace.

            Steve felt great, for the first time in a long time he had a girl who he was kind of crazy about. Everything seemed pretty good. Despite that, though, he was still desperate to find Bucky. Natasha had gotten a call from someone and left three days before, promising to call as soon as she had something. But nothing had been heard from the assassin in that time.

            “Captain America keeping up with the ordinary folks, what I did to deserve this?” asked Sam, “Has there been progress on Bucky?”

            “Natasha and her friend Clint looking into something. I haven’t heard anything yet though. Actually I could use some advice.”

            “On what?”

            “I’ll introduce you today at the VA.”

            “Oh,” Sam was intrigued, “And who might this be?”

            “An…interesting woman I met at the Smithsonian. Her name is Zinda.”

            “That’s great. I know you said that Natasha was trying to set you up all the time.”

            “Yeah,” said Steve as they began jogging around the reflecting pool overlooking the Washington monument, “But I didn’t meet her through Natasha. I am capable of finding a date by myself.”

            Sam tried not to snicker, as Steve glared at him, “Well alright then, I look forward to meeting her.”

            Their jog continued for another couple of miles before they settled down on the grass. Sam looked over at his new friend. He seemed brighter, but there was still this underlying issue that plagued him. Maybe it was Bucky, maybe he was still reeling from being in the present.

            “Sleeping any better?” asked Sam.

            Steve shook his head, “I wish. No, I just keep seeing that scene on the carrier over and over again. You know first time I saw him was on the roof. He caught my shield and he had this tortured look on his face…”

            “Well he certainly didn’t look tortured when he was trying to kill you.”

            “Sam…”

            Sam held his hands up, “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but he left you pretty bloody.”

            “He also saved me.”

            “Right…right…” said Sam then remembered something, “Hey, thanks for recommending me to Stark. My new wings are already being made.”

            “It’s the least I could do after nearly getting you killed.” Steve stood up and helped Sam up, “I’ll see you later.”

            “Gotta go shower for the girl?” Steve just laughed and jogged away.

A few hours later, Zinda arrived at Steve’s apartment in jeans and a t-shirt. Together they went to the VA center. There were a lot of others there, men, women, battered, been through hell, sitting in front of a podium, or getting coffee.

            Steve had waved Sam over, “Zinda this is my friend Sam Wilson, code name Falcon.”

            “Zinda Blake, aka Lady Blackhawk,” said Zinda and grabbed his open hand to shake it.

            “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard great things about you,” Sam stated.

            “Likewise, Steve said you fly?”

            “Literally.”

            “I’m a pilot…well, I was.”

            “Well hang around, you’re welcome to listen…or share, whatever you want. Feel free to mingle.”         

            A bunch of people were talking and exchanging casual conversation. Steve and Zinda got a seat off to the side as Sam called everyone together.

            “Welcome everyone,” said Sam, “You know, I was jogging this morning and I realized, that sometimes, for us, it’s hard to get out there and meet new people, form relationships, go on dates. It’s also tough on our loved ones. It’s scary isn’t it? There’s a fear that plagues us, it clenches up in our throats, and we can’t speak, can’t move. And they want to understand. But they can’t.”  There was a pause. “Would anyone like to start?” Steve and Sam shared a look, “Steve?”

            Everyone turned, though few reacted. Steve had been coming to the VA since he got out of the hospital. It was only one or two times, but he had been there, listening intently, learning about the true horrors that were happening overseas. It was a different kinds of war then the one he had fought, but yet so similar at the same time.

            “Hi guys, I’m Steve….” He began. He started things off and everyone continued, contributing their stories, their progress and setbacks. By the end of the session Zinda was talking to another woman, also a pilot, also blond, as Steve was chatting with Sam.           

            “Well, she’s certainly something.” Said Sam, recalling her own story, of coming back to a completely different world. Sam wondered how much she and Steve had in common, “And she’s got a talent with the vets.”

            Zinda seemed to have the other woman laughing when Sam got a call. He answered his phone and handed it to Steve. “You need to get yourself a cell phone.”

            “I have one…I just left it at home…besides, that’s why when I have you,” said Steve, “This is Rogers.”

            “Hey Cap, it’s the Hawk. Tasha put me through to your friend, she’s in Italy right now; does the name Azzano mean anything to you?”

            “Yeah, there was an allied base not too far from there. It’s near Pordenone, right?”

            “That’s right,” said Clint on the other line, “Natasha also contacted a Colonel Rhodes. He’s in Virginia right now. He has agreed to help you with a jet.” Clint then gave him the address to a hanger.

            “Um….but….that is…I could just fly by a regular plane, right?”

            “It would take too long, between security in DC and then in Italy. Plus you may want to bring a gun or two just in case.”

            “…um….r….right…” said Steve, “When?”

            “The sooner the better.” Steve’s hands shook slightly as he hung up and handed the phone back to Sam.

            “Good news?” asked Sam, “Bad news?”

            “Nat thinks she found Bucky.”

            “That’s great,” but the look on Steve’s face told him that something wasn’t right. “Steve, what is it.”

            “She wants me to fly myself there. Got some Colonel to give me a plane.”

            “So what’s the problem?”

            “I haven’t piloted an aircraft since….well, it didn’t end well.”

            Sam put his head back in understanding. The last time Captain America flew a plane was when he plunged it. He hadn’t needed to fly anything since then. Natasha flew him to Germany that one time, he had taken his motorcycle to DC; there hadn’t been a need for flying. Could he fly a plane now?

            Zinda walked over to Steve and put a hand on his chest, “This was amazing,” She turned to the other flier, “You’ve got a great bunch a people here Sam.”

            “Why thank you Zinda, say…” began Sam, “You still remember how to pilot an aircraft?”

            “Shoo…of course I do, best female pilot there is, if I do say so myself.” She gave him a hearty salute, “Why ye ask?”

            “Well…you see, Steve here needs to get to Italy. He’s got a jet waiting for him, but the thing is…” Steve looked horrified.

            “Say no more. Lady Blackhawk reporting for duty, Captain.” She kissed his cheek, “So where are we goin?”

            “A place called Azzano,” replied Steve, “Natasha should be meeting us at the landing strip.”

            “And why am I flying a jet to Italy so you can meet that Ruskie girl?” asked Zinda faking offense, but her eyes narrowed down at him. Since their chat at the Smithsonian, Steve had felt obligated to explain who the woman who picked him up at the bar was. 

            “She is just a friend.” Steve sighed, he needed to tell her. Why couldn’t Natasha just come back and take him, “Maybe the three of us can talk once everyone is clear.”

            Sam nodded and a few minutes later the room was clear except for the three of them. They sat down in a circle made with their chairs.

            “Natasha used to work for SHIELD, she and I…fought someone called the Winter Soldier, who turned out to be my best friend Bucky.”

            “You’re saying that psycho they showed on the TV, trying to kill you, was Bucky.” Asked Zinda, “Well someone’s screws are loose.”

            “More like they were taken out and replaced,” replied Sam, “He was brainwashed first by the Soviets and then by HYDRA.”

            “I knew it. Ye can’t trust a commie. General MacArthur was right.”

            “Zinda, will you please help.”

            She looked at the two men in front of her. “Of course I’ll help. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

            “Girlfriend?” asked Sam. He did not realize just how serious this “friend” was to Steve.

            “Well….yes,” said Steve. Zinda grinned and kissed his cheek again. He then stood up, “Alright, I think we have an appointment with a Colonel Rhodes. Sam you coming?”

            “Can’t really do much without my wings. Besides, if he’s as…damaged as we both think he is, having so many people may overwhelm him. Have fun, take lots of pictures, and bring me back a souvenir, preferably in the form of a beautiful Sicilian woman.”

            “I make no promises,” said Steve as he and Zinda first headed to her apartment where she grabbed her outfit, and then back to Steve’s place to change.

            He stepped out in his uniform, cleaned from the blood, without a helmet. His shield had been recovered while he was in the hospital and he strapped it to his back along with a pistol to his belt. Zinda stood in a black skirt, and matching boots and military jacket, with an officer’s cap. Her chest and cap had a black hawk over a yellow circle indicating her as a Blackhawk.

            “You look incredible,” Steve said smiling.

            “Not so bad yourself, handsome.” Now, she said strapping his offered weapon to her leg, “Where are we getting out ride?”

            “Virginia.” Said Steve. 


	5. Come Fly With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one got the Ms. Marvel cameo in the last chapter? Oh well, glad to see so many hits on this story. Cap and Zinda go to meet Colonal Rhodes and make their way to Italy.

They took his motorcycle to a hanger in Virginia where Colonel James Rhodes awaited them. Rhodes was doing missions as the Iron Patriot, a name he was incredibly proud off, in Virginia. At that moment, he was waiting for Captain America, THE Captain America. When Tony’s Avenger friend Natalie…Natasha….Roshman….Romankov…..Romanoff had called him and asked for a favor for Captain America he would have been a fool to say no.

            He was out of his suit, which stood next to him, fully armored in its red white and blue glory when he heard motorcycle sounds approaching. There rode in the great man himself, with a girl holding tightly on to him. 

            “Captain America,” said Rhodes as the two dismounted the bike, “It is an honor. I’m Colonel James Rhodes”

            “Thank You, sir,” said Steve, saluting him, Zinda also responded with a salute, Rhodes returned one out of respect, “And this is my pilot Miss. Zinda Blake. I take it you have a plane for us.”

            “Pleasure, and yes I do.” Said Rhodes. Steve eyed the armor to his left, Zinda did too, though she had little idea what it was, “Ah, the armor, yes, Tony Stark built. We’re old friends.” Steve nodded.

            They followed Rhodes where a jet stood. It looked like an ordinary commercial jet, small, sleek and ready for takeoff. “This is a prototype Stark industries is currently working on. It is built for speed, and endurance. It can emit pulsars if attacked and can cloak itself for a short while.”

            “I thought Stark Industries didn’t make weapons anymore.”

            “This is no weapon, Captain,” continued Rhodes, “It is a jet designed to carry the most important of men and in case of…incident has a defense system.”

            “Defense system?” asked Zinda, “Interesting….but wait, are you sure it’s alright we take this prototype?”

            “A miss…Romanoff, I believe, approved it with Tony, I’m just the middle man. Tony is…indisposed at the moment…he’s trying to permanently move his base of operations to New York.” He paused as he took a stroll down the side of the plane admiring it, “The coordinates have been set.”

            Steve and saluted the colonel one more time, “Thank you again, sir, we best be going.”

            “Good luck on whatever mission this is.” He returned the salute as Cap and Lady Blackhawk got inside the plane. It was cozy, there was a comfortable cockpit and casual lounging area then the kitchen. The bathroom was located between the cockpit and main seating area.

            Zinda quickly got into the pilot chair and looked over all the buttons. She cracked her knuckles and strapped in. “You ready to fly?”

             “As I’ll ever be,” said Steve taking the seat next to her. But his hand shook, he flashed back to that stupid Hydra plane, “I think I’ll sit in the….” He stood up sharply.

            “Aw, ye scared of flyin?”

            “Not exactly…it’s just that the last time I was in the front of the plane was when I took one down and then slept in it for several decades.”

            “Well there will be no plane taking down. This baby won’t dare crash on my watch. So go, sit tight and I’ll let ya know when we land.”

            Cap closed the main door, locking it with a swish, and buckled into a very comfortable chair in the main seating area.

            “Good evening gentlemen,” said Zinda as the plane softly roared to life, she laughed because he was the only actual passenger, “This is Lady Blackhawk, your captain speaking, please keep your hands and feet inside the aircraft at all times.” Steve chuckled, “Well behaved passengers may get special privileges with the captain. We are set to arrive in Italy in approximately eight hours. Exits are located on the front and rear of the aircraft. Now sit back and enjoy the ride.”

            Zinda clicked off and Steve could see everything moving, first the jet getting into pre-takeoff position, then zooming through the landing strip, and finally, souring up into the sky.

            “The sky is clear and I’m expecting a relatively smooth ride. So sit back and enjoy.”

            The plane turned slightly in order to face the Atlantic Ocean. Steve looked around the kitchen, there were some ingredients there to cook something up, some alcohol, which would be ill advised.

            “Would Captain Steven America Rogers please come to the cockpit?”  Steve froze, but slowly made his way inside, standing in the door and gently leaning over Zinda’s chair, “Lookie.” She pointed to a small compartment which had two earwigs and a note reading, _One for you, one for me, one for Sam, and one for your lady friend ;)._  Steve did not remember mentioning to Natasha that Zinda was a pilot so how did she know? Maybe she overheard them talking? Or maybe Steve had mentioned it when Natasha had come over to translate. He was so sleep deprived that night; maybe it was then. Then again, remembered Steve, Natasha always knew what she needed to know.

 Steve laughed, taking the earwig, Zinda took the other one.

            “So….” Began a voice in his head, “How’s it flying?”

            “Hello Sam,” said Steve.

            “Listen, Natasha got a com for me. How she managed to do it from Italy is a mystery. Damn spy genes. Anyway. Just wanted to let you know I am heading to New York.”

            “Everything okay?”

            “We think Bucky might end up going home, right now he seems to be tracing his steps. He went to Italy because…..”

            It dawned on Steve, “Because he heard me mention it.” Steve looked at Zinda, “A few days ago, at the Smithsonian, Zinda and I were talking…”

            “There was some footage of you and Buck grinning like goofballs. You mentioned it happened in Italy. He must have been there listening.” Responded Zinda. She put a hand over Steve’s which was placed on the back of her seat.

            “Hey Z,” said Sam, “How’s the plane?”

            “Flying straight, as it should be.”

            “Right, well, I’m going to canvas a few places in Brooklyn, maybe track down any kids of the commandoes, or old fogies from the 107th, and see if there’s any old memorabilia I can collect, or if Bucky turns up here. Either way it should be a productive strip.”

            “Are you sure?” asked Steve.

            “’Course I’m sure. My mom lives in the city with my sister, and she’s been begging me to come and visit.”

            “Good luck Sam.”

            “You too Cap and I’ll have my com, but do me a favor and just call me.”

            Steve chuckled, “Will do.” Steve sighed and slumped into a seat inside the passenger area. Oh Bucky, he’d been through so much. Steve wondered if there was any hope for him. No, he shook his head, there had to be hope. Bucky was a fighter. He was going to make it through this. Steve had to stay strong because Bucky would need him later.

            Zinda came out about an hour later and Steve nearly jumped, “Relax soldier, just turned on the autopilot. I needed to stretch my legs. We got anything to eat?”

            Sam meanwhile took a train into New York. His mother, Darlene Wilson happily met him at the station with his younger sister Sarah. Sam had looked more like their mother, while Sarah took after their late father. Both women greeted him happily with hugs.

            “So what brings you back to New York?” asked his mother. 

            “And don’t say us, cause we aren’t going to buy that.” Said Sarah, “So spill.”

            “I’m tracking down some WWII vets for this thing we’re putting together in DC, honoring those who fought against HYDRA and the Nazis. There’s so few of them. So we’re trying to set up a reunion with Captain America.”

            “That’s amazing, Sam,” said Darlene happily, “Where are you scouting?”

            “I heard of a few vets living in Brooklyn so that’ll be my first stop.” He looked around the renovated train station which just two years prior was infested with Chitauri and hostages. Now the place looked good as new, with rebuilt windows and no more broken tiles, or knocked out doors.

            When they arrived at the apartment his mom pressed him for details on what he had been doing. He just shrugged and reiterated all the work he’s been doing with the VA, and how he got Captain America to join him. She didn't buy that answer, too many incidents had been happening around the country lately, but she let it go, believing Sam was protecting her. 

            “How have you guys been?” asked Sam. The last time he had visited had been just after the attack. He was forced fly in because of the condition of the train station.

            “Same old, same old.” Said Sarah. But she flashed a ring at him, “John proposed.”

            “Congrats,” Sam hugged his sister, “Casper’s a good man. I’m happy for you, sis.”

            They ate dinner and Sam took the metro to Brooklyn, looking for the nearest Veteran Center. He found one and entered. There was a man there, well into his years at the front desk, he had a rough face, deep seated gray hair, wearing a Yankees shirt. 

            “Hello, my name is Edward Marks. How may I help you?”

            “Sam Wilson, 58th Rescue Squadron, Air Force.”

            “Army,” said Marks, but did not elaborate further. Sam would not push him. Guessing just by his appearance the man could have been in Vietnam, “How can I help you Mr. Wilson.”

            “Just Sam, thank you. Actually, I’m here from the VA center in DC.” He pulled out a card which had his credentials and identified him as a VA worker, “We’re looking to arrange a reunion for the 107th regiment which served during WWII. I was wondering if there were any veterans or descendants that I could talk to, in order to gain information, pictures, that sort of thing.”

            “There’s a place,” said Edward, “Two blocks south of here. Some of the vets get together and just chat. Hold on.” He went under the counter and pulled out a book, “This is a list of some of our veterans who have passed, but who’s children, I think could be helpful.”

            “Thank you.” Were there names he recognized? Wondered Sam glancing at the list. Sure enough, there was a name. There was a Jennifer Kozinomi, nee Morita. She was the daughter of Jim Morita, one of the Howling Commandos. He jotted down her address. Edward then flipped a few pages, “These are the names of some of the boys from the 107th who are still alive.”

            “Any chance I could get a photo copy of those?” asked Sam. Edward nodded and went to the back. He came back and handed the papers to him, “Anything else.”

            “No, thank you, sir.” Said Sam and opened his hand for the man. He shook it and Sam went on his way. First stop, Jennifer Kozinomi.


	6. Brief Italian Getaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise after I get Bucky more or less normal I will begin focus back onto Steve and Zinda and will get into more Bucky Nat interactions.

Landing in Italy was easy enough. Natasha had radioed them in when they entered European air space and told them what to expect of their landing site. It was an open field a few yards from a safe house Natasha had recently acquired under the name Yelena Belova. It was a villa with a beautiful front garden and empty green fields in the back.  

            When they landed, Cap was the first to step down and held his hand out for Zinda. His gentlemen nature had not been lost on her and she freely accepted his hand and stepped down.

            “Natasha Romanoff, Zinda Blake,” he introduced, “Natasha is known as the Black Widow and Zinda calls herself Lady Blackhawk.”

            “Nice to finally meet you,” said Natasha shaking Zinda’s hand, “Steve has told me so much about you.”  

            Zinda grinned, “He just doesn’t know me very well yet, do you sugar?” Steve blushed and Natasha laughed, “And you’re the ruskie spy?”

            “No, no, no more mission for the KGB here. Let’s get inside and I’ll brief you.” They walked a good two hundred yards to the house. Zinda eyed her a little bit but continued on towards the house, “Wait, didn’t you guys bring civvies?”

            Zinda and Steve exchanged glances, “Clint made it sound urgent, said we had to be ready ASAP and get on a plane to catch Bucky. He didn’t mention—” said Steve.

            Natasha let out a groan unlike Steve had ever heard before and grabbed the phone once they entered the house. She dialed some numbers and when there was a click on the other end she started.

            “You complete idiot.” She told him, “I specifically said this was a stealth mission. I told you, make sure they bring civilian clothing. UGH! You are so useless sometimes. What are you doing in Switzerland anyway? European vacation?” There was some words on the other line, some more yelling before Natasha finally hung up, “Sometimes, I swear, I think he has a bird brain.”  

            Steve laughed, “Clint’s code name is Hawkeye.” Zinda burst out laughing, “Falcon, Hawkeye, how many birds you got?”

            “You make three,” said Natasha. She took them to the kitchen island where a map was laid out, complete with labels and photographs, “Now, I caught sign of him in Naples and lost him for a little while then followed him here.” She indicated a spot on the map, “And finally here.” She indicated a different spot on the map.

            “That’s where…that’s where I learned the 107th had been hit. Hundreds dead, hundreds missing. Colonel Philips would not mount a rescue so Peggy arranged for Howard to fly us over the line. I found Bucky in a HYDRA base there.”

            “So he’s going to where his platoon was?” asked Zinda.

            “What was it you and Zinda talked about that he overhead?” asked Natasha.

            Steve retold her what he and Zinda had discussed about the area they were in and the bar in the Azanno, Italy. “We were several miles inland, in a forest area. The locals liked us.”

            “So if Bucky was in this area, where would he go?” asked Zinda.

            Looking at the map he pointed to a couple of places, “We can split into two teams.”

            “Clint still in Switzerland?” asked Steve.

            “I don’t need him,” replied Natasha, “There should be some clothes; lucky for Clint I am always prepared.” She led them up a winding staircase and pointed to two different bedrooms. Captain America once again became Steve Rogers, with dark jeans, a t-shirt and a denim jacket.

            Zinda put on skinny jeans with a purple tank and a brown jacket, “I look spiffy.”

            Steve simple laughed, “How do we want to split this?” asked Natasha.

            “We’ll take the old base if you take the city,” said Steve strapping his gun.

            “That works, you two have fun. Oh and…” She tossed Steve keys, “There’s a jeep waiting outside.”

            Zinda took the map and together they hopped into the jeep.

            “Com secure?” asked Nat through the earwig.

            “Hearing you loud and clear doll,” said Zinda.

            “Natasha, if you find him don’t engage.”

            “You know, I have done this before,” Natasha called back.

            “I know, I just don’t want to spook him.”

            “Whatever you say, this is your mission.”

            They drove about an hour into the forests, but seventy years later who knew what the land would be like or if the forest would still be there.  Natasha meanwhile dressed up similarly to what she wore when meeting Dr. Banner two years ago. She felt relaxes, walking through the city, pretending to browse.

            Was there any hope for the Winter Soldier? Rogers seemed to think so. But Natasha had doubts. Seventy years of brainwashing was not going to be easy to fix and what was the guarantee that he would come out the same way? She remembered that night in Odessa and the way he looked at her. There was a determined look; the look of a killer. There was no way he could simply be brought back. A nice street vendor offered her a necklace. She casual said thanks, but no thanks in Italian and continued on her way, scanning the area. She browsed around the shopping area, assessing the height, weight, and build of a number of tourists traveling the area.

            At her three o’clock was a mother trying to control her unruly child, some things are universal. On her six was a guy trying to get something to impress his girlfriend, at four o’clock was a group of tourists trying to make their way through the market. She turned to face them better and put on her glasses, which had facial recognition technology on them. The glasses isolated one potential guy, in the back, cap, glasses, hoody, the height and build matched up to that of Bucky.

            She blended into the tour group easily. Just a bunch of Americans enjoying the visit to the beautiful city. The tour guide let them off their supposed leash and allowed them time to browse and shop, yet they still mostly stuck together.

Her sunglasses did not hider her identity, but her once again short, dark curled hair was a bit better to the pin straight orange she fashioned a few weeks back.

            The man in questioned pulled away from the tour group and headed up the street towards the restaurants and bars. He looked around the area, walking through what had once been bombed by the Germans. Historical records had confirmed that this area was bombed by the Germans and later rebuilt. It likely looked immensely different from the last time Bucky was there.

            There were a few bars that he passed along the way, but she couldn’t quite catch sight of his eyes, or his metal arm. It could have been him. But how to find out for sure? She decided to try to get closer to him, maybe play the tourist.

            “Excuse me, senior,” she called to the man, “Do you know how to get to the Temple of Serepeum?” The temple wasn’t even in Azanno, but your average tourist may not necessarily know that, she surmised and decided to give it a shot.

            He turned much like the Winter Soldier had just with his head glancing back, nothing more.

            “Нет [No].” The man had replied coldly and continued on his way. Three things were certain: one, the guy knew Russian, two he clearly understood her, meaning he also knew English, and three she was now sure that this man was the Winter Soldier. She checked her com.

            “I believe I have sight of him.”

            “Natasha, keep your distance, we’re on our way.”

            Steve and Zinda meanwhile had arrived in the forest, sure enough, nothing looked familiar to him.

            “I nearly had a heart attack when Peggy told me that the men I had just seen were what was left of the 107th. Then when I asked Colonel Phillips about Bucky I couldn’t breathe. Bucky was all I had left. He was family.”

            Zinda put a hand on his shoulder as they walked through the area. They took a half an hour canvas before deciding it was a dead end. They were half-way back when Natasha had radioed in and told them she had a sighting. Steve drove a little faster when she said that.   
            They arrived in the city and found Natasha’s car. But no Natasha.

            “Natasha status,” called Steve.

            “In slow pursuit. He’s brooding around. I’m in the streets where the bars are, heading east.” Steve and Zinda surveyed the area, looking through the street until Zinda caught her.

            “Steve, this way.” Zinda pointed down the street. They began to follow and caught up easily with Natasha.

            “He just entered that bar.” Natasha pointed.  Inside he sat down at the counter and ordered a beer, “I wasn’t spotted.”

            Steve sighed and took off his gun, “Steve!” said both women at the same time.

            “All due respect, if he’s as nutty as you say, that is not a good idea.” He handed her the gun. Steve glanced at Zinda before leaning just a smidge down and kissing her on the lips, wrapping a protective arm around her waist, “Just cause you’re a good kisser won’t stop me worrying.”

            “I know. Just cover the exit.” The two women exchanged nervous glances.

            “So how did you meet Steve?” asked Zinda.

            “I met him when he arrived on the SHIELD hellicarier before New York happened,” said Natasha, “He’s kind of a legend though, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”

            The two women watched as Steve approached the bar and ordered a beer, sitting right next to the man.

            “How are you enjoying our city?” asked the bar tender in a thick Italian accent, recognizing Steve as a tourist from his terrible accent when he tried to order beer.

            “It’s much different than my last visit. So much more vibrant, the people far cheerier.”

            “When were you here last?”

            “Oh many, many years ago,” said Steve, “But I am glad I came back.” He took a sip of his beer and the barkeep went to tend to another customer.

            “Last time it wasn’t nearly as lively,” said the man next to Steve also with a beer. He turned, it was Bucky, his eyes bloodshot, face unshaved, hair just as unruly and messed up as it had been the last time he saw the man.  Bucky, it seemed had been getting flashes, bits and pieces of memories that looked like his own, or could have been his own, but still seemed foreign to him. The comment had caught Steve off guard as it did the Winter Soldier who looked blankly at his remaining Beer as if it had danced right in front of him.

            “Hm….I remember there was this one bar we went to. I put together a bunch a men for a team. They had pretty good whiskey there too. I came back once to it, long abandoned and sat there nursing a bottle of that same whiskey, trying to drown my sorrows.”

            “You lose someone?” Came Bucky’s reply. He was slowly remembering bits and pieces, but there was still so much left untouched.

            “My best friend…my brother in every way but blood.”

            “You miss this guy?” asked Bucky so quietly Steve almost missed it.  

            “I do.” He turned to face his long lost friend, “So Buck, you feel like going home?”

            The man stood, “I’m not your Bucky.” Came his cold reply.

            “James Buchanan Barnes. You were born and raised in Brooklyn, we grew up together.  We went to Coney Island together and I got sick. You spend a good portion of your life saving my ass.”

            Bucky said nothing, “Come home Bucky, let me help you, please.”

            “I’m not….you….should just leave me alone…I don’t remember you…or this Bucky….” He clutched his head, it hurt, the memories hurt his head, his past life, pushing into past the wave of fog and clutching at his brain, his heart, “Leave me alone.” He shoved Steve hard, pushing him into the wall. Stupid Spangled hero, trying to tell him who he was and tell him where to go. He just wanted to control him, just like they all did, KGB, HYDRA, now him.

            “...Odessa…” Natasha stood frozen for a second. She nodded as Zinda received something from the redhead. The other woman seemed to know what it was and with her eyes told Natasha she understood.

            Bucky stood there for a moment eying her. He then started running down the street.

            “Aren’t we going after him?” asked Steve as he moved outside.

            “No worries,” said Natasha, “We finally have a tracker on him. We’ll know where he’s headed.”

            “I think I already know.”

            “Care to share with the rest of the class?” asked Natasha.

            “Brooklyn.”

            “So much for a weekend getaway to Italy.”


	7. Returning flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam talks to Morita's daughter, our heroes return to New York, and a plan is hatched.

Back in mission gear and back on the plane with Natasha and Zinda both sitting in the pilot’s cabin, Steve used the telephone on the bird to call Sam. He wasn’t sure if Sam had his earwig on and thought that calling would be the best way.

            “Sam.”

            “Hey Cap, how’s Italy? You find me a woman?” said a tired Sam.

            “Sorry, no such luck, maybe next time. Listen, we had Bucky, but we lost him. He may be heading to Brooklyn. We’ll be in the city sometime tomorrow afternoon according to Zinda.”

            “I can meet you wherever you like.” Sam had been busy, gathering videos, files and interviews from different people connected to the 107th, “I got a meeting with Jennifer Kozinomi. She’s the daughter of Morita.”

            “Jim has a daughter. How along a go did he…” began Steve.

            “About ten years ago. His daughter may have some information for me, some things that may help Bucky remember. Did you get to talk to him?”

            “Yeah…he’s starting to remember, bits and pieces here and there.”

            “Well that’s better, I guess. I also visited a couple of vets. They had some nice things to say about you and about Bucky. I had it taped in case you need it.”

            “Thank You Sam, I owe you.”

            “Nah,” replied Sam, “Listen I gotta go. But I’ll turn on my com so keep me in the loop.”

            “Affirmative.” He hung up as he heard yelling coming from the cockpit. He leaned closer towards the pilot area and heard Zinda.

            “Ah am telling you. I’ve known how to fly since before you were born.”

            “And I’m telling you, I don’t let people I barely know fly me anywhere.”

            “I flew the Spangly one here just fine, don’t get your commie panties in a twist.”

            “Ladies please. The mission. Now, Natasha, Zinda did fly me here I trust her.” He said, “Zinda, Natasha is not a communist, I also trust her with my life. So, how about we all step back, relax…and allow the other to do their job? You two could co-pilot.”

            Steve Rogers, the great negotiator. Both women glared slightly. Natasha turned to the window and Zinda adjusted her cap and took hold of the wheel. He ran to his seat and buckled in. At first everything was great, it was an easy flight, everything seemed great, his thoughts wondered back to his life in Brooklyn before the war.

            As they were flying over the water a clearly HYDRA marked plane began following them.

            “Well, what do we have here? A Nazi stooge trying to follow?” asked Zinda, her experience at the museum had shown her what HYDRA was; it was also on all the news channels, “Hey Ruskie where’s that damn cloaking button?” As Natasha looked for the right button they received word.

            “Geben Sie uns die Winter-Soldat”

            “Well that didn’t sound pretty.” The man in the other plane kept repeating that over and over again for a few minutes before he fired a rocket. Zinda pulled the plane to the left, dodging the rocket with ease.

            “We’re being fired at,” called Natasha, “Blake, evasive actions.”

            “Whatchu think I just did?” snapped Zinda, “Doesn’t this plane have some sort of weapons?”

            “There should be,” said Natasha.

            “Was there anything in Bucky’s file about German science experiments?” called Steve.

            “Of course, HYDRA wanted to replicate the serum that made you, everyone did. They wanted an elite fighting force.” Natasha pushed several buttons. Her side of the screen changed and she was now seeing the back of the plane. She saw the other plane trying to maneuver and she locked on it.

            “Another incoming, hold on to something back there,” called Zinda and reared the plane a harsh right, “Natasha can you fire?”

            “If you hold her steady,” said Natasha and a second later locked onto the other plane and fired, just as it had sent off a third missile. The other plane exploded as Zinda maneuvered around the missile. She went above it and it flew by, now behind the fast roaring missile Natasha was able to fire again and the missile fell in pieces into the water.  

            Meanwhile in New York, Sam Wilson approached a lovely little home about an hour from the city. He was greeted by a lovely woman, tall, thin, and with dark gray hair.

            “You must be Mr. Wilson.”

            “Sam please,”

            “Jennifer.” Sam smiled as Jennifer Kozinomi stepped aside to let him inside the suburban home, “You said this was about what my father did during the war?”

            “Yes, ma’am.” She led him to the living room where a tea trey was waiting.

            “Tea?”

            “Please.” She poured him tea in fine china with little lavender flowers on it, “Your father, Jim Morita served with Captain America as part of a special team which was tasked with taking out HYDRA bases.”

            “My father spoke a bit about Captain America, but never about the things he did during the war. He, on more than one occasion, told a rather odd story about his rescue from the HYDRA facility he was being held in.”

            “Really?” asked Sam as Jennifer handed him the tea cup.

            “The highlight of the story was that Captain America told them all that he had personally punched Hitler over two hundred times.”

            Sam laughed, sipping his tea “Well…he didn’t lie exactly.”

            “What is it that you are putting together?”

            “Stories that we could record about your father, memorabilia you’re willing to part with, or just something I could take a picture of, if you’re not. We’re trying to organize a bit of a reunion for Captain Rogers.”

            “Will these things go into the Smithsonian? I know a curator approached me last year about the exhibit.”

            “No ma’am, we have no obligation to the Smithsonian.” He sipped the tea. It was warm and fragrant and while he wasn’t much of a tea drinker the liquid had a nice calming effect, “If you wish to donate artifacts, or not, that’s entirely your decision. Captain Rogers would just like to know who’s still alive and what happened to his friends. As you know, there are very few WWII veterans left.”

            “Indeed,” replied Jennifer taking a sip. She was quiet for a moment. She then stood up, going to a small, antique desk. She pulled out some pictures, and what looked like a file.

            “There are some pictures of him and his team and the files are mostly my father’s notes. We found a journal of his after he died and had my son transcribe the pages onto the computer. This is the journal he kept from the relocation of Japanese-Americans in 1942 and ending after his discharge from the army.” She handed him the file, “It is yours to keep, the pictures, however I would ask that you make copies and return them.”

            Sam pulled out a camera from his backpack, “If I may.” He took a few snapshots, various pictures consisting of the Howling Commando’s hanging out after the war, “Jennifer, did your father ever mention a Sergeant by the name of James Barnes, went by Bucky?”

            “The name sounds familiar, give me one second.” She sifted through the papers she had just given Sam.

            “There are a couple of entries here and there where Dad talks about his captivity, and then there are gaps because he couldn’t talk about missions. This one is from ’43.”

            _Barnes became weak, how he managed to last so long, in such conditions with how sick he was…I don’t know. They took him to the isolation wing. That kid saved my hide a few times, that’s a lot more than some of these other guys…._

The entry continued but Sam stopped reading and looked up at Jennifer, “Thank You, this will mean a lot to Captain Rogers.”  

             “If there’s anything else, please let me know. We donated a few items to the Japanese-American heritage center in California. My father was from Fresno.”

            Sam nodded finishing off his tea, “Thank you Jennifer, this will be a great help.”

            The following day found a man in New York City, crowded, noisy, too many unfriendly looking people. 32557038, the number kept repeating over and over in his head. Barnes, James Buchanan, Sergeant, 32557038. What did that mean? He sat quietly on his way to Brooklyn, but somehow ended up getting off at the wrong stop, so he walked the rest of the way…

            “Sam.” Steve called into the com, waking the man up. Sam groaned but listened intently to the Captain, “We’re still hours out, but we have a location on Bucky. Natasha is sending the coordinates to your phone.”           

            “I’ll keep an eye on him. If anything should happen what’s our rendezvous?”  

            “Stark’s rebuilt tower.” Said Natasha, “We’ll be landing right on the roof.”

            Sam arrived at the coordinates and looked around, for hours he seemed unable to find anything, trudging through Brooklyn, all his files left back at his Mom’s apartment. Then Sam remembered that Steve had mentioned a very specific are of Brooklyn, so he headed there. The buildings had been repurposed during the 60’s and a new building had been put together in the 80’s, but the address was right.

            Using his sharp skills, Sam surveyed the area. It was easy enough to spot Bucky. He didn’t approach him at first, kept his distance. Bucky looked around the area before walking off in another direction. He then took the train, seemingly going around in circles, before he made it to some little café overlooking the newly renovated Stark Tower.

            He sat down outside and just looked.

            “Can I get you something?” asked a nice blonde girl in a yellow uniform.

            “Coffee,” Bucky said coldly. She poured him one right there into the cup which had already been replaced.

            “You know, you’re sitting in the exact same seat Captain America sat in before the battle of New York.” She replied, “Anything else?”

            “No!” he said, a bit harsher, “What is that?” He motioned to the large building.

            “That’s the new Stark Tower.”

            “Howard Stark?”

            “Howard?” asked the Girl, “No his name is Tony. Let me know if you need anything else.” She left and Bucky stared at the tower.

            “I have visual,” reported Sam as the lunch rush began filing out of the cafe, “We are four blocks from Stark’s tower.”

            “We just landed,” said Natasha, “Try to hold him if you can, we’ll be there soon.”

            The three exited the plane, Steve was out first and helped the ladies down. Tony was not there, but Pepper was.

            “How does that beauty fly?” asked Pepper, her hair a beautiful shade of light orange. She had flown into New York while Tony was doing a few things back at their old place.  

            “She flies on the straight and narrow, never had a bird that easy to handle. She practically flew herself,” replied Zinda. Natasha nodded.

            “Do we have a better plan then talking again?” asked Natasha somewhat annoyed, turning to glance at Steve.  

            Pepper interrupted as Steve looked uncomfortable, “Before all that, Tony wanted me to let you know that the plane can be refueled here and can take you back to D.C. Rhodey should—I mean Colonel Rhodes will take it back then. We want you guys to be able to get home.”

            “Thank You Ms. Potts,” said Steve, “And tell Mr. Stark we greatly appreciate his help.”

            “So, plan?” repeated Natasha, “Because chatting worked so well last time.”

            “Actually, I think I may have an idea,” said Zinda with a sly grin.  


	8. Fly Girl Has a Plan

Zinda’s plan was easy enough to follow. There were enough of them, they could do it and it would get Bucky off the streets to somewhere safe. If people were after him, as evidenced by their entertaining ride to New York. That plane was only one, but they couldn’t be sure that the now destroyed plane would be the only one coming after Bucky, hoping to recapture him, and freeze him, or hurt him further.

            Sam was contacted via the com. He maintained that Bucky was still at the café. All they were going to do was sedate him and bring him back to DC.

            Steve, and Natasha would cover the exits and Zinda would approach. She was less known to Bucky, not known at all actually and would be able to get close without rousing suspicion. They approached the cafe, Steve and Natasha had on hats and sunglasses to hide their identity, while Zinda walked freely with the needle tucked into her pocket.

            She approached Bucky, who seemed not to notice anyone. But before Zinda could implement anything Bucky clutched his metal arm, screamed in pain, and passed out. Sam was the first to get to him, and Steve was the second; he cradled Bucky’s head and felt for a pulse. The few people around appeared not to notice, or care what was going on.

            “He’s breathing.” Said Steve. Sam confirmed this.

            “We should get him to Jarvis,” said Natasha. Steve and Sam picked him up and carried him quickly back to the tower.

            Pepper greeted them and took them to the not quite complete, but close enough medical center. Sam and Steve put Bucky down on the table. Introductions were brief as all their attention was turned to the poor guy with the glitch arm.

            “Jarvis,” began Natasha.

            “I can have him scanned as soon as everyone steps back Ms. Romanoff.”

            The scan revealed that Bucky’s arm had an internal malfunction that appeared on the screen. The damage in the arm sustained from battle was severe, rendering the arm extremely difficult and painful to use.

            “Mr. Jarvis, can you repair it?” asked Steve.

            “Just Jarvis, sir, and yes, if you would all provide a bit of assistance, Ms. Romanoff.” Several machines rolled out and began working on Bucky’s upper chest and arm. Natasha set up the morphine drip and Sam helped set up the heart/breathing monitors.

            Zinda came closer and grabbed Steve’s hand, squeezing it tightly. He acknowledged the gesture, but his eyes remained focused on the machines working on his best friend.

            “Maybe you guys should wait outside?” suggested Pepper, “I can get you coffee or something.”

            “I think I’d rather be here.” Steve replied.

            “The damage will take several hours to fix,” explained Jarvis, “Perhaps giving me the space to work will make it go quicker.”

            “You know for a fancy machine you sure come off kind a sarcastic.”

            “Tony programmed him,” replied Pepper.

             “Is that guy anything like he seems on TV?” asked Sam as Natasha snorted.

            “Oh no,” said Pepper completely steadily, “In real life he’s a lot more obnoxious.” Natasha laughed and the group left the room. “Coffee?” Everyone shook their heads and settled down on some scattered seating, a comfortable couch, a soft chair or two, etc.

            “Don’t worry Steve,” said Zinda, “That guy’s clearly a fighter. He’ll pull through.”

            “Thank you Zinda,” said Steve.

            “I hate to ask this, but what’re you gonna do once he’s stable?” asked Sam.

            “We take him back to DC,” said Natasha, “There’s no other option, we were attacked by a HYDRA plane demanding we hand over the Winter Soldier.” Zinda opened her mouth to ask, “Yes, I know German.”  

            “How do you know German?” asked Steve.

            “Um….not quite sure actually, just have a knack for languages I guess,” replied Natasha.

            “We need to take him somewhere safe. We would have to secure my apartment first before we bring Bucky there.”

            “That’ll be easy enough to do,” said Natasha, clearly volunteering, “I can take a chopper to DC right now and work on that. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to swipe for bugs, re-do the locks. The bulletproof windows were already put in so that’s out of the way.”

            Steve nodded, “Do what you have to.”

            “You sure you don’t want to move?” asked Sam.

            “Positive.” He replied and Natasha, thanking Pepper headed to a secondary landing dock where a helicopter stood. This one had been left by Natasha when she stopped on her way to Europe.

            The mood in that room was just a tad too sappy for her. So she volunteered to go fix up Steve’s apartment. Anything as not to think about the Winter Soldier…Bucky Barnes…Winter Soldier…whoever he was.

            It was easy enough for her to arrive in DC and head over to Steve’s apartment in her car after a quick stop. Two bedrooms, she noted of the small apartment. She added more secure locks to the door, proceeded to sound proof the walls, and scanned for bugs. The ones that were in place by SHIELD had all been removed by Sam when Steve was in the hospital, so it was surprising when she found a bug right underneath Steve’s bed. Its small size, and id number were could be found on the side. She flipped it over and sure enough, HYDRA.

            She found one other bug in the kitchen and destroyed both, she then added an alarm system and a few smaller surprises for anyone else who wanted to bug the room.

            Back in New York Steve had gone from sulking in a chair to pacing. Pepper had gone to get some work done and Sam took the opportunity to go back to his mom’s house and get his things so that if anything happened he was ready to go at any time. He had returned an hour later and found that Zinda had finally convinced Steve to sit down with the promise of a story.

            “….so my friend Dinah, she adopted this little Asian girl, right and she’s supposed to teach the poor thing English and she does. Then her, and Helena get into this battle with the kid as the messenger. So the kid calls Helena a spinster and a dateless wonder. Then Helena, not wanting to be outdone, got the kid to call Dinah a tramp. Of course I heard it all from the Skipper, Barbara. ”

            Sam had walked in just as Zinda had started the story and was clutching his sides from laughter. Steve tried not to laugh, that was not a good way to raise a kid, but he couldn’t contain himself.

            The sun had long set on New York and despite her best efforts Zinda had fallen asleep right there on Steve’s shoulder, unable to stay awake any longer after all the flying and running around. 

            “So, she’s a bit strange,” begins Sam in a whisper.

            “Compared to everything I’ve been through since waking up, she’s beautifully normal.”

            Sam grinned, “Well good for you, Steve.”

            A ring from the other room startled everyone. Zinda jumped up as if she was ready to kill someone and looked around. She mouthed an “Oh” before looking back at the source of the ringing.

            “Captain Rogers, sorry to interrupt, but your friend’s damages have been repaired. He will make a full recovery, if you’d like to see him. His arm is once again fully functioning and not constraining his circulation.”

            Steve walked into the room. Bucky was still asleep, the look of his face looked more peaceful. “God Buck, remind you of anything?” asked Steve and pulled up a stool, “You looked only slightly better than the last time you and I met like this. You remember? It was in ‘43. I honestly thought you were dead. That was a pretty scary day for me, not nearly as scary when I actually lost you, but God….”

            “You were smaller….” Said Bucky groggily, “Where am I?” He jumped up rapidly, causing Steve to fall back slightly.

            “Hey, you’re safe, we brought you here after you collapsed, your arm….Jarvis repaired it.” Steve watched as Bucky flexed and checked out his metal arm.  It didn’t hurt anymore.

            “What do you want? In return?” asked Bucky. Steve’s heart clenched and his face became covered in disappointment. That question hurt just as much as any punch or bullet wound.

            “…Nothing, you’re my friend. You don’t owe me anything…” Bucky jumped off the examination table.

            “Then I’ll be going.” Said Bucky and walked out the door, as he did so, Zinda struck him with the sedative and he fell.

            “Oops,” said Zinda, “I guess my hand just slipped.”

            Sam chuckled, “Or was Ah not supposed to do that?” she asked looking at Steve. The captain sighed.

            “Let’s take him back to DC, make sure he’s safe and then…we’ll let him go.”

            Steve hated thinking about his friend leaving, but what was he supposed to do? Making sure Bucky was safe yeah, but ultimately, Bucky had spent too long taking orders and not making decisions for himself. They had to get back to D.C. and maybe, maybe he could convince Bucky to stay.

            “Sam, you want a ride back in the shiny jet?” asked Zinda.

            “Yes,” replied the man, pointing to his stuff in the chair.

“Alright, then,” Pepper returned briefly and made no comment about the knocked out Winter Soldier on the floor, “Don’t ask,” said Zinda.

            “Wasn’t going to,” replied Pepper, “Enjoy your flight home. Let me know if there’s anything else we can do.”

            “Thank You Ms. Potts,” said Steve, “And thank Tony for us too.”

            “Will do,”


	9. Bucky's Back....Ish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they rescued Bucky, now what? This is a bit of an awkward chapter, filler for something that needed to be written so that I can jump back to the main story, which is Zinda/Steve and now Bucky/Nat.

Bucky awoke hard, screaming from the pain in his head. Sure, his arm was now feeling significantly better, but his head was a separate issue entirely. He remembered waking up on a slab like he had a lot of the time. Did he get mind wiped again? He wondered. No. He remembered everything that had happened, he remembered Steve, and Natalia. Natalia. He had met her once, and he remembered bits and pieces, her hair, how pretty she was. Now he remembered a lot more.

            He remembered, but did he know where he was now? Ah, the answer came when he looked up and saw Steve at the door.

            “Where am I?” He snapped.

            “At my apartment,” said Steve, “In DC. We flew you back—”

            “Why?”                                           

            “I want to have a conversation with you…and because we wanted to take you somewhere safe. Some people are after you. They likely spotted us trying to talk to you in Italy. They tried to shoot our plane down.”

            “H….HYDRA?” asked Bucky in a voice that was barely audible.

            “Yeah buddy,” Steve replied, his voice calm, his tone even, “Want coffee?”          

            Bucky looked around the dark room, the walls were plain, the bed was small, not really suitable for a guest, but then again, he doubted Steve would have any overnight guests.

            “S…sure,” He got up and walked with Steve to the kitchen area. He brewed the coffee and handed it to him. Taking a sip Bucky smiled, “It’s good.”

            “You’re one of the few to say so. Zinda said it too. Must be it’s a soldier thing. Sam doesn’t mind it, but says it’s too strong, but Natasha absolutely hates it. It was kind of funny.”

            Bucky sipped the coffee and looked at the clock 0500.  The sun was coming up already and it seemed like it would be a good day. Now he needed to figure out what this soldier Steve wanted from him.       

            “Listen…Buck, I was…hoping that…maybe…I mean you don’t have to…but I was hoping that maybe…you’d stick around. Just for a little bit.”

            The Winter Soldier put down the cup and just looked at it for a while, not saying anything, “Whether you’re the old Bucky or not, I don’t want to lose my best friend again.”

            “I don’t remember…bits and pieces….I barely know who you are.”

            “We could try to help you remember.”

            “And what if I don’t?” asked Bucky flinging the cup of coffee at the wall, it broke, with the remains of his coffee sipping onto the floor. “I…”

            “It was just a dumb mug. I didn’t even like it,” said Steve hoping to sooth Bucky, “Even if you don’t remember everything, we don’t abandon each other.”

            “If they’re after me, I shouldn’t stay here.”

            “My friends, Sam and Natasha are working on a way to deal with that. They’ll be here soon, and Zinda’s stopping by with breakfast on her way to work.”

            “Was that the blond?” asked Bucky

            “She does tours at the Smithsonian. She’s a little strange, but I’m lucky I found her.” Said Steve and looked at the clock, “Do you want to, maybe go for a run or something?”

            “Run?”

            “I’m usually up around now, I get dressed and I go to for a run, Sam’s usually there…we could go…or not, we don’t have to. You can do whatever you want.”

            “Actually, a run sound pretty good.”

            “Great, I have some clothes you can borrow and hey, maybe a shave? You look like a bear.”             Bucky attempted a small smile, which came out as more of an awkward display of his teeth. Steve either played dumb or didn’t notice it.   

            Twenty minutes later Bucky was sweating through a long sleeve sweater that was just a bit too big. They’re jogging around and Sam is there and he starts to enjoy the run until the quickly remembers that Steve and now Bucky too are both much stronger and faster than him and the jog quickly becomes Sam leaving early to catch up with Natasha, promising that he had a lot of information for the both of them.

            Zinda arrived around eight with bagels, just as Steve got out of the shower.

            “You have that magic coffee of yours?” said Zinda, “He give you his cup a-jo yet? Best coffee I’ve had since…well….since I was back home.”

            Steve kissed her briefly and handed her a fresh cup of coffee. Bucky looked solemnly at her.

            “Buck, this is Zinda, Zinda, Bucky,”

            The Winter Soldier said nothing, “It’s a pleasure. Heard a lot aboutcha from Steve.” She put the bagels on the table.

            “That makes one of us.” A silence set in. Bucky looked down, feeling bad, he didn’t want to upset anyone. He just didn’t remember most things. And sure Steve might have mentioned that there was that blond lady, but nothing about her.

 The nightmares…they help, ironically enough, they remind him of stuff, the brief flashes of memory, a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, fights behind alley ways.

            “Sam is coming over, he said he has a ton of information for us,” said Steve.

            “Excellent and come by the museum around four.”

            “I’ve been to the museum.” Said Bucky.

            “But you haven’t been there with me to guide ye.” She sat down and sipped her coffee and turned to Steve, “And you, owe this gal,” she pointed to herself, “A proper date, without chases, Nazis, and grunt work. I’m thinking…..dancing.”

            “Yes Ma’am,” said Steve grinning.

            “Is it alright if I call you Bucky?” asked Zinda, “Winter Soldier is just a mouth full.”

            Bucky shrugged, “Excellent. I can let you see some of the things that aren’t on display.”

            “What isn’t on display?”

            “Oh just a couple-a knick-knacks here and there.” Zinda winked at him. She kissed Steve again, softer, but more passionately, “Four o’clock and don’t you dare be late.”

            Steve looked at her for a second as if he had momentarily froze in place before recoiling, “Yes, we’ll be there.”

            A little later Sam and Natasha came over. She and Bucky exchanged a look of mutual respect, as Sam began hooking up his laptop to the television.

            “Has your girl been through here?”

            “Yes, unlike us though, she has a day job,” said Steve, “What is all this?”

            “A few things, actually. I went to see Jim Morita’s daughter. Nice lady, I also met a few remaining vets from the 107th, got testimonials, some photos, I put it together last night. There’s a lot. But I narrowed it down to the bulk. I managed to find a little bit from a guy named Dum Dum Dugan.”

            Bucky looked at Sam and Steve. There was a guy named Dum Dum. He tried to ask Steve with just his face. But he was pre-occupied with the knowledge of the person.

            “How did you manage that?”

            “One of the guys in the 107th knew him, had some video they made years after the war. Apparently it helped them all connect.”

            “So where do we start?” asked Bucky.

            “Well…I think we should start with the people you know. So let’s go with Dugan.”

            Sam nodded and clicked on the appropriate file. It started going on the TV. It was Dum Dum Dugan, clearly, still wearing that old bowler hat, lounging in a nice house.

            “That’s Howard Stark’s place,” said Natasha, “Dugan was an early agent of SHIELD.”

            “Looks like a party,” said Steve.

            “According to what I found, this was a common occurrence. Papa Stark got a lot of the old crew together, the rest of the commandoes all survived the war, so there are shots of them.

            Sam was right, on the screen he recognized his friends, and there was Peggy, talking to some guy, “There’s a lot from the 107th here. But there’s no sound, sorry just the picture.”

            “Who’s the man with Peggy?” asked Steve.

            “Her husband,” Said Sam checking his records, “Good guy from what I understand, Stark introduced them.”

            There was food and laughter and everyone was running around. Bucky flashed back to the bar, when Cap asked him if he was going to follow Captain America into battle and Bucky replied that he was going to follow that skinny kid from Brooklyn instead.

            “Skinny.” Bucky replied and looked at Steve, “You were skinny….shorter…weaker.” He had said this earlier, but it helped to signify to Steve that something was working, something had reached him.

            “That’s right Bucky,” said Steve smiling brightly, “Remember, I joined the army.”

            “You rescued me…from a base…”

            “That’s right…”

            “We’re….friends…” That word felt foreign to his mouth, he did not have friends, he had mercenaries who followed orders and handlers he reported to, there was only order and orders, never friends.

            “Best friends,” replied Steve, “Sam what else you got?” Sam pulled out of his bag several print outs, pictures, files, and various other things he had collected. He went over the files, and sent them all to Steve’s computer, the pictures had been printed out and Sam went into great detail about where the chapters came from and what they were off. Bucky stared at them with a child-like fascination.

            “And I think this is also where Sam and I should go and you two can have your…fossil bonding time,” cut in Natasha, still somewhat uncomfortable with spending time being buddy, buddy with the Winter Soldier. But she had a point, this was something personal and Bucky and Steve would need that time without feeling overwhelmed by people and data.

            “Yeah, it might be easier to do this alone.” Said Steve, “But thank you guys so much, you really don’t know what this means to me.”

            Nat and Sam took their leave and were out of the building when Natasha grabbed Sam by the arm and asked him for a favor. She wanted him to check on this Zinda at the Smithsonian. Nat’s logic was that she needed a second opinion on the girl who finally got Captain America to make a move.

            Sam tried to explain that he had met Zinda already and found her to be a quirky, spit-fire of a girl. But Natasha countered with her usual intimidation, citing the woman’s awkwardness and sharp tongue as suspicious. Sam knew he was defeated. The Black Widow was a formidable foe,  

            Natasha waited for him outside of the museum, leaning over the dash of her Camaro.

            When Sam came out from the Museum he seemed pretty happy.

            “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” Explained Sam, “She seems like a nice enough girl and boy does that man need someone.”

            Natasha nodded though she was still slightly weary, but at least she and Zinda seemed to have come to some sort of understanding. They weren’t friends, but they were far from enemies.

            “Anyway, if I’m done playing spy for you, I think I’m going to go home and get ready for work. Keep me updated on how everything goes.”

            Sam headed down the street and she got into her car. She opened a secure channel and called Stark.

            “Hello Ms. Romanoff, how is our spangly man with a plan doing?”

            “Good, he’s got a girlfriend.”

            “And she’s alive?”

            “Living and breathing.”

            “Is she a senior citizen?”

            “No, she’s in her twenties,”

            “Well better than his nineties.” Replied Stark with a chuckle, “Where’d they meet?”

            “The Smithsonian….she’s a tour guide,” she said over Stark’s snickers.

            “We gotta meet her, next time we’re all in New York, she has to be there. This is something I have to see to believe.”

            “That….might be a bit hard…maybe you all should just come here.”

            “No, I think New York will be perfect, give me the chance to show off my new…I mean our new Avengers tower. I’ll get Banner and Thor, if you get the Hawk.”

            “If I must,” replied Natasha. Looks like the merry band of misfits was coming back together after all.

 


	10. Meet and Greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America's oldest living national treasure is in danger, Stark calls Steve in for a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very Zinda Steve focused, but next chapter will have more Bucky/ Nat Interactions.

 

            It took a month for Bucky to return to some sort of resemblance of the person he used to be. Steve in that time had spent very little time with Zinda, the occasional dinner and movie night wasn’t really dating. He needed to stay with Bucky and help him.

The young brainwashed man was, thankfully, starting to seem like himself again, he was talking a little bit more and didn’t retreat into his room the second someone else arrived in the apartment. Zinda became the most frequent of visitors, and on occasion spending the night. It helped that one of Natasha’s contacts had emailed Steve a list of helpful tips on dealing with someone with amnesia.

Speaking off the assassin, she had also began coming over to check for bugs and to converse with Bucky in Russian. At first it was tense, given the fact that Bucky had shot her, but that seemed to melt away when he greeted her like a familiar face, almost like a friend. Natasha wondered how he knew anything about her.

            A particularly happy Sunday morning, found Steve waking up next to a gorgeous blond. He normally would have gone on a run, but given how little time he had spent with her in general he decided against it and just admired the lovely woman that slept soundly beside him. His phone ringing, however dragged him out of bed.

            “This is Rogers.” He said half-asleep and half-annoyed.  

            “Steve…I need you to come to New York,” came a gruff voice on the other end.

            “Stark, how did you get this number?” asked Steve whispering as not to further disturb Zinda, moving towards the window.

            “That’s not important,” came the Iron Man’s reply, “It’s a matter of national importance; one of America’s oldest standing treasures is at stake.”

            Before Steve could reply, a sleepy southern voice called to him, “Spangly…come back to bed,”

            “WAIT!” screamed Tony into the Captain’s ear, “YOU HAVE A WOMAN IN YOUR BED?”

            “I’m hanging up now.” Replied Steve.

            “No, no, I’m sorry, but I do need you in New York. Bring Bucky and Nat, and anyone else you want. Gather your troops cap and get to New York.”

            Steve huffed and hung up the phone. Zinda at that point had woken and was sitting upright on the bed, her arms hanging over the sheet that covered her knees.

            “So…breakfast?” asked Steve. Zinda perked up and jumped out of bed, wearing one of his remained SHIELD shirts. They walked out into the kitchen where Bucky was already sitting at the counter drinking coffee.

            “Who was the guy on the phone?” asked Bucky, “I could hear his hysterical screaming through the wall.”

            “That would be Stark,” Bucky’s eyes widened, “Howard’s less than impressive son.” Bucky gave a nod. “He’s a _superhero_ known as Iron Man with an ego the size of the Statue of Liberty.”

            “Iron Man?” asked Zinda.

            “He wears a similar suit of armor to what we saw when we met Colonel Rhodes,” explained Steve, “Except Tony’s is red and gold.”

            “Flashy,” replied Zinda, “Does he sparkle too?”

            Steve couldn’t help but smile a little at that, “No, but he’s just a bit of a narcissist.” He sighed walking over to the stove and turning it on, “So fancy a trip to New York?”

            “As long as no one tranquilizes me,” said Bucky quietly. Zinda laughed and sat down opposite him. After a pause he added, “Would Natasha come?”

            Steve smiled, “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

            Natasha had arrived to take Bucky out for the day when Steve asked her if she wouldn’t mind coming to New York with the three of them and Sam because Stark had some kind of crisis.  
            “No!” She said flatly.

            “Please Natasha,” begged Steve and Bucky sent her a hopeful smile. She looked from Steve to Bucky to Zinda who sipped Bucky’s even stronger coffee quietly.

            “Fine, but Bucky will have to keep me sane.” She knew why Stark was calling Steve to New York, and while a part of her wanted to see what would occur (as she had been the one to tell Stark about Steve’s girlfriend), the other part told her to run far, far away. She settled with the first part of her brain and agreed. Bucky gave a soft smile at being acknowledged and thought of.

            “Does that mean I get to fly another plane?” asked Zinda eagerly.

            “Maybe we should just take the train?” suggested Steve, already dialing Sam on the phone.

            “I think Stark is sending a helicopter, can you fly that too?”

            “Last I checked it was a flyin’ machine so yeah, I gotcha covered.”

They landed on the pad on the roof of the now complete Stark Tower and were greeted once again by Pepper who, while being dressed elegantly and professionally looked ready to murder someone. She gave a faint grunt as everyone exited the helicopter.

            “It’s a pleasure to see you all again,” said Pepper with a faint of exasperation.

            “Are you alright?” Pepper made no motion to respond, she directed them towards the rest of the building and just pointed sharply.

            “Alright then,” said Natasha.

            “One floor down.” They went into the elevator and rode down. 

The five walked into a lounge/conference room and saw Tony Stark chatting excitedly with Dr. Banner, sporting his glasses and a blue button down, contrasting Tony’s Metallica shirt. Attempting to follow the conversation was a tall, broad shouldered blond, Thor, with his hammer resting solidly on the ground. There was also the Hawk, in a nest he himself had chosen, on the balcony overlooking everyone else.

Steve, with mild annoyance walked up ahead and approached the Metallica clad man.

“Stark,” he said sharply.

“I’m telling you, without the ticker, I am breathing and sleeping much better,” said Tony to a poor, frustrated Dr. Banner.  Stark apparently had not heard him; Steve made a motion to tap him on the shoulder.

“Steve,” said Dr. Banner, happy for the distraction, “Good to see you.”

            “You as well, Doctor,” replied Steve pleasantly. Tony Stark finally turned around to greet the captain.

            “Steve, a pleasure as always, where is the charming girl I heard in your bedroom this morning?”

            Steve hid a blush, and looked towards the people he had arrived with. Natasha and Bucky were moving towards the bar, Zinda and Sam were following closely behind, engaged in some kind of conversation. Thor had now gone into a conversation about Jane Foster with Banner and neither seemed to notice the new addition.

            “That is none of your business.”

            Stark followed Steve’s glance and spotted two possible suspects. One was, of course, Natasha. No way, thought Stark. She was looking way too cozy with the one-armed wonder. So that left the cute, well-endowed blond woman.

            “What? You won’t even introduce me?”

            “Why did you call us from DC? What’s going on?” Steve had no time for Stark’s shenanigans.

            Zinda walked over to Steve and snaked an arm around his waist.

            “Steve, who are all these people?” she asked, “Are they your friends? I’m glad you have other friends.”

            “Uh….Zinda…this is…Tony Stark.”

            “So you’re the one in the silly suit of armor. Are you compensating for something?”

            “Absence of magical hammer, no anger management problems and lack of assassin skills,” said Tony, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

            Steve pulled Zinda away and moved her towards Thor.

            “And this is the mighty Thor,” said Steve, “Thor, this is Zinda.”

            “Oh…” said Zinda, “The one with the hammer.”

            Thor looked pleased to be introduced, “Tis a pleasure my lady to be introduced to such a beautiful creature such as yourself.”

            “Are you a Shakespearian actor or somethin? Cause you talk real funny.” Steve attempted to suppress a laugh that was breaking its way through.

            “I come from the land of Asgard, where do you hail from?”

            “Goth….” She cleared her throat, “Texas.”

            Next came an introduction to Dr. Banner, who as Steve explained was a brilliant scientist, choosing to leave the anger issues, for, perhaps another day. Zinda liked Dr. Banner, he spoke well, a bit shy, but seemed quite intelligent.

            Then came the Hawk who finally graced the room with his presence. Natasha walked right over to him and punched him in the arm, muttering something about following directions and listening to what he was told. Clint just grinned and laughed. Bucky glared.

 Natasha helped facilitate Sam’s and Bucky’s introductions and both found Thor to be funny, Dr. Banner to be very kind and smart, and Tony Stark being….something else. Pepper was nowhere to be seen and Tony made no mention of where she had gone or why she was not present.

            As everyone was settling in, Steve found his annoyance growing. Finally with everyone assembled as much as they could be. He snapped loudly at Tony.

            “WHY have we all been summoned here?” Steve was annoyed at being dragged from DC, away from home on some mysterious mission that no one seemed to know anything about, except Stark.

            Pepper chose that moment to walk into the room, and Tony attempted to hide behind her.

            “Oh no,” responded Pepper, “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it.”

            Tony stood in the middle of the room, with Avengers and would-be Avengers all around him.

            “Speak oh man of Iron, I wait to hear of your great dilemma.”

            In turn, the billionaire looked on nervously at all the occupants of the room.

            “Uh….it’s really a funny story…you see, a certain…um….well…her name shall remain….a secret…for fear of my own safety,” Natasha gave him a warning nod, “I…informed me that…our oldest….living….treasure…was in the um….clutches is really the wrong word to use, I would say in the arms of a…”

            Zinda, who quite quickly realized where this was going burst out laughing, everyone turned to look at her with confused impression.

            “Steve, darlin’ I think he’s talkin about you.”

            Bucky was next to start laughing.

            “Oh don’t be silly Zinda, Bucky’s a year older than me.” Everyone gaped from a dying from laughter Bucky, to a still hysterical Zinda, and a now even more annoyed Steve and joined in the laughter.

            “No seriously,” began Bucky, “What is this?”

            “Hold it,” said Steve, silencing everyone with his booming voice, “Are you telling me, that you dragged us here…using the cover of a mission of great urgency…because you wanted to meet my girlfriend?”

            “Well…when you put it that way…it sounds…so….so wrong.”

            “Uh, that’be because it is…that’s abuse of power and position right there. Ya now…for a smart guy, you sure act real dumb.”

            The other occupants returned to their laughter. Even Pepper was looking rather pleased with how everything had turned against Tony, “Yall are so strange. My birds and I, we wouldn’t stage an intervention if one of us was seeing a fella.” She then turned to Steve, “Does this mean we can go home?”

            “We’re already here,” said Sam, “Might as well stay for dinner, right Stark?”

            “Jarvis?” Tony begged.

            “Dinner is courtesy of Mr. Stark,” came Jarvis’s automated reply. Down several more floors in a very large yet homey kitchen was an incredible spread of food.

            “So you’re Tony Stark,” said Bucky ending up in a seat beside the man, “I thought you’d be taller.”

            “And I thought you’d be deader,” replied Stark in a feeble attempt at a comeback, “And less scruffy.”  He wasn’t scruffy…really anymore. His hair was shorter, and his face was shaved. He tugged on the sleeve of his sweater, which concealed his arm.

            “Leave him alone, Stark,” said Natasha and given the lack of interaction Bucky had had with her in these past weeks, it was shocking to see her defend him. It brought a smile to his face, as everyone else joined them in the dining room for a wonderful meal prepared for by…well…that was the question. Stark? Jarvis? Magical, mechanical caterers?


	11. Only the Worthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the best chapter, sorry, writer's block, but it does establish a few things that I needed to be established, a few fun moments. Also, ideas and speculations are welcome.

After a somewhat awkward meal the others reconvened in the living room for drinks. . One right after the other. The last time they were together was after the Chitauri invasion and at that point everyone was too tired to try to hang out and get to know each other.

Thor, in a buzzed stupor decided to place his hammer right in the middle of the room, leaving people to trip over it.

“Hey Mr. Thor,” called Zinda, bending to take a look at it “Ya might want to watch where you drop your hammer. Hey, what’s it say on it?”

            “It says that that only those who are worthy can lift the hammer.” Explained Thor lifting it to show Zinda .Thor grinned and places the hammer on the table.

            Smugly Stark stood up “I bet I can do it.” He grabbed onto the handle and pathetically attempted to lift it. His grunts and wafts of frustration caused laughter among his fellow Avengers. He walked away muttering profanities at the hammer and Thor.

            Next was Hawkeye, there was little effort put in, and Hawkeye walked away perfectly content as he had been before. Dr. Banner declined, reminding everyone that during Hulk’s fight with Thor he had attempted to lift the hammer and he figured it would not work for him. Thor had attempted to persuade the scientist, who again declined with dignity.

            Sam stepped up to the plate rubbing his hands together ready to put his all into it. He reached for it, wrapping both arms around it and heaved and hoed with nothing to show for it. He left disappointed. Bucky put his good hand over his metal one and declined shyly. Steve patted his friend on the back.

            “Time to show you how a woman does it,” said Natasha and stepped up to the plate, first one handed and when the hammed did not move she tried two handed. Nothing.

            “So what’ll it be, Captsicle? Ready to get beat by a hammer?” asked Tony putting a hand on his shoulder, Steve brushed it off and walked over to the magical item. Nervously he put his hands together and pulled, the hammer lifted.

            The world stopped, Steve’s eyes went wide, everyone around him looked flabbergasted and Thor looked like he was about to cry.

            “Its…lighter than I thought,” he replied slowly. Zinda walked over and took it from his hands, sensing her worthiness, or lack there off the hammer pulled itself to the ground and Zinda with it.  Steve grabbed it before she fell completely.

            Thor put on a brave face and cleared his throat loudly, “It seems…that um…you are worthy.”  

            “I’ll stick with my shield, thanks though.”  

Steve placed the hammer onto the table, thus preventing anyone from tripping over it.  

            On the other side of the room Bucky was drinking water when Natasha came over and poured the both of them a shot of whiskey. He looked at it, as if judging whether the shot would be worth it. He also pondered something that he had remained silent on.

            He had told Steve he was remembering their past, their shared past, of Bucky and Steve, two kids running around Brooklyn, joining the Army, seeing the new and improved Steve, all of that. But there was something else he had left out. Something he had not wanted Steve to know. Bucky was beginning to remember more and more about his missions. The first was of Natasha. But the others were crueler, scarier, and left a bitter taste in his mouth. He did not want to burden Steve with those, they were too horrible to repeat out loud.

            Natasha took note of his odd facial expression and nudged him after drinking her shot.

            “If you won’t drink it, I will,” said the former SHIELD agent. She reached for it, but Bucky placed his metal arm over it, “Okay, so just drink it.”

            “Are we friends?”

            “Well…we’re not enemies…and for people like us, that’s already a move in the positive direction,” replied Natasha, “Why? Are you remembering something?”

            “Kind of…but you can’t tell Steve because…because…”

            “Because he’ll look at you like you’re a kicked puppy?” Bucky did not nod, but the agreement was there.

            “I’m remembering other stuff, stuff I wasn’t supposed to remember even more than my past…stuff about what I’ve done…first as part of the KGB and then under HYDRA.” He grabbed the shot and in one swig left the glass empty, “It’s not good things, but the one that keeps coming back is…”

            “Well…if you want, back in DC, I do have the file we got on you. It might help jog the rest of those memories. There isn’t a lot about missions in there, but you never know.”

            Bucky looked at her. She was blunt, she wasn’t going to sugarcoat it and unlike Steve, she didn’t treat him with kid gloves.

            “That would be great actually.”

            “Still remember how to read Russian?” she asked nudging him slightly.

            “Da,” he replied.

            Stark, wanting to redeem himself slightly…or attempting to, decided that it wasn’t enough that everyone was drinking and chatting. Oh no, for the center of attention that he was, he needed to bump the party up. He turned on the speakers and let soft musing flow into the room.

            “Music?” asked Thor eagerly, “I will invite the lady Jane to dance at once.”

            “Only if you can pull her out of the lab,” said Dr. Banner to him.

            “Jane?” asked Steve.

            “Dr. Jane Foster, Thor’s girlfriend,” explained Pepper, “They arrived together yesterday and since then she has been occupied in one of the labs here.”

            “Very brilliant woman. She worked under Dr. Selvig, I knew him…uh from before,” added Dr. Banner. Jane Foster was dragged by a very eager Thor while Bruce and Steve moved some furniture around to help.

            Jane Foster was not allowed introductions as the excited Asgardian pulled her to the make-shift dance floor. She was not a particularly graceful dancer, but managed to find her own dance moves, however silly they might have looked.

            Steve turned to Zinda, “So…”

            “Well, I suppose in this instance a girl might like a dance?”

            “How come you’re not dancing then?”

            “Just looking for the right partner.” Bucky nearly choked, remembering a very similar scene between Steve and another woman from many years ago.

            Steve held out his hand and Zinda and they swayed together to the music. Neither was particularly good with the whole modern dancing thing, but they managed to fit into the rhythm. Steve found himself liking Tony’s taste in rock, though he would never tell Tony.

            Pepper had dragged Tony onto the floor as well and let him sweat. She was still mad at him, but enjoyed his squirming. The dancing lasted well past the setting of the sun, but exhaustion won out and the drinking began.

            Ah drinking, the fine art of boozing into blackness, the joyous process which led to poor decisions and nothing but regret in the morning. The idea had been proposed by Tony, to no one’s surprise.

            “This is a bad idea,” Natasha had said and Bucky merely nodded in agreement with her.

            “Yes, I think I’ll go back to the lab? Pepper?” asked Jane.

            “It will be my pleasure.” The two women said goodbye and left the room.

            “I believe that as a scientist it would be my duty to warn you of the dangers such decisions may cause,” attempted Bruce.

            A few people chuckled slightly, but Thor walked over to Bruce and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

            “Fear not Banner, we are all great warriors and we deserve this. It will give us all a chance to unwind, remember our fallen friends, and celebrate.”

            Bruce didn’t buy it, and bowed out gracefully, “The other guy and alcohol don’t really mix.” He decided to remain in the room, however if only for observation purposes.

            “I’ll pass,” said Bucky, “I’ve blacked out and lost my memories one too many times to go on a drunken stupor.”

            “Then keep the booze coming,” said Clint, “And we’ll get the party rolling.”

            “Z, are you up to the challenge?” asked Sam.

            “Does a Bell XFM-1 Airacuda have 4 machine guns and two canons?” Bucky tiled his head staring at Zinda. Steve smirked.

            “She means yes,”

            “Isn’t that what I said?”

            Sam, Bucky, and Natasha worked to get drinks set up, pulling beer bottles, and pouring shots. Dr. Banner picked a lovely seat, on a comfortable chair by the window.

            “What was it you said you did Zinda?” asked Dr. Banner.

            “I work at the Smithsonian, but before that I was a pilot.”         

            “She’s been flying us everywhere,” said Natasha, “Flew us here.”

            “Ah, so you are a woman of flight? A bird as it were?” Zinda laughed, but nodded.

            Steve, Zinda, Thor, Sam, Clint, and Tony promptly began drinking. Steve, while generally not being a heavy drinker in the first place laughed a little at the thought of a contest. He cannot get drunk, so he supposed he would be more of a silent participant, drinking, sure, but also keeping an eye on everyone as Bruce had fallen asleep hours before.

            He first checked on Bucky, who glared at him for being worse than a mother hen. Meanwhile Zinda seemed to be keeping up with the best of them. Her 40’s/50’s body and her own extremely high alcohol tolerance easily allowed her to out drink Clint and Sam. Tony backed out soon after just to remain in Pepper’s good graces, but was already well over tipsy.

            This left Thor, Zinda, and the sober Steve.

            “You maiden are a formidable opponent,” slurred the Norse god, “Your ancestors would be proud.”

            At this point it was well close to morning and Zinda was completely flat out drunk.

            “M….Ancestors schmansestors, I can hold my liquor with the best of ya’ll,” she muttered slumped in a chair, with her head back.”

            “Maybe we…should call it a draw?” suggested Steve.

            “Perhaps the soldier….is correct.”

            “Oh, come on their norsy, we can keep this going all night long.” She winked at him as she jumped up on the table, “I aint tired, are you?”

            “N…no…no at all.”

            “I can do this all night.” She said jumping off said table, stumbling and falling down.

            “Are you alright?” asked Thor as Steve ran over to help her up.

            “M...good,” Steve helped her to the couch, she snuggled closer to him and fell asleep. She would feel it in the morning, Steve knew that, but he had to admire the way her blonde waves covered her face as she slept beside him.

            


	12. Bucky's Penance/Steve's Hard Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sort of a lead into my next fic which will also have Zinda in it, it'll be a sequel and will delve a bit more into Zinda' psyche and lead to her finally telling Steve the truth while dealing with the fallout of what happens after this chapter.

Chapter 12

            Zinda Blake, with wavy blond hair woke up to something equal to a nightmare, her head was pounding. Man what had she done last night?

            “Good morning Ms. Blake,” came an automated robotic voice. She jumped up, despite the pain shooting through her head.

            “Who said that?”

            “I am JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s AI and control this tower.”

            She fell back onto the bed, “Well Mr. Jarvis, I gotta tell ya, not to scare a gal, especially one that’s hungover.”

            “My apologies,” replied the voice, “If you please, I can have a remedy prepared in just a few minutes for you.” She looked up at the origin of the voice, some fancy panel thingy she had never noticed.  

            “Well, if ya can make it and not poison me, I’ll drink anything that’ll get rid o’the pounding.”

            At that moment the door opened and Steve Rogers stepped in with breakfast.

            “Are you my fairy godmother?” asked Zinda.

            “No, I’m just the man bringing you breakfast. How’s your head?”

            “What’d I do last night?” she asked as Steve set the tray down, “I remember drinkin’ hammer, we danced....what happened after?”

            “Well…about five bottles of beer later you decided to challenge Thor to an arm wrestling tournament…you won.” Zinda grinned, “There was table dancing…Pepper yelling, Thor was quite impressed with your drinking skills…you crashed on the couch and I brought you here.”

            “I can hold m’own with the best o’them.” She said with a mighty push forward with her arm.

            “That you can,” said Steve, “Oh and Nat and Bucky asked if you wanted to watch movies tonight.”

            “What movies?” she asked as Jarvis made the drink appear like a replicator from Star Trek.

            “Your remedy Ms. Blake.”

            “Thanks Mr. Jarvis,” she replied and took it. It smelled like wet socks and jet fuel, “or…maybe not…” She plugged her nose and chugged the elixir. It didn’t taste like jet fuel and she had certainly tasted worse things.

            After finishing up the drink she felt some relief and plunged into her breakfast.

            “Who made this?”

            “Sam, he woke up early and decided to be nice.”

            “Birds are always nice, unless you’re food or ya piss em off…or threaten their loved ones.” Steve just smiled at her.  

Meanwhile, in the kitchen a cranky Bucky Barnes sat, nursing a cup of coffee. He had spent exactly zero time sleeping…every time he closed his eyes, his dreams were plagued with flashes of his crimes and flashes of everything he had done. But then…there were other images, things that made no sense, of a woman with red hair who was so beautiful and he could feel that briefly, he had genuine feelings for her. Was this someone he met in England? She vaguely reminded him of Natasha, but perhaps it was the hair.

            When he had arrived in his bedroom he asked JARVIS if he could soundproof the room. He didn’t want to wake up Steve or bother anyone really. They were his problems. Natasha had given him a cold calculating stare like she was judging him and she came over to sit beside him after getting her own cup of freshly brewed black coffee.

            She slid beside him and took a sip, stronger than she usually drank it, but better than the sludge she drank at other times.

            “Want to talk about it?”

            “Talk about what Natalia?”

            “You look like you have the same raccoon eyes that Steve described the night Fury showed up at his apartment. Not sleeping?”

            “I slept fine,”

            “Right…” replied the spy unconvinced, “That routine might work on Steve, but it won’t work on me.”

            “It’s not a routine,”

            “Sure it isn’t.” They remained rather quiet. Bucky, a couple of times looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.

            Stark ran in grinning ear to ear and pushed his tablet in Bucky’s face.

            “LOOK! It’s you!” He dumped the tablet into the other man’s hands and skipped away. That man had issues, noted Bucky. Serious ones. He looked a lot like Howard…talked and acted a lot like Howard, but Tony was something else entirely.

            Bucky took the tablet and stared at it. It was a picture of him during the skirmish at the bridge, where he first saw Steve. An article was titled “One Man Credited with Dozens of Kills in 70 Years”

            _As more and more files continue to expose the inner workings of the former government agency known as SHIELD, this image taken by a bystander has surfaced. Little is known about the name of this man, but FBI and Homeland Security have begun an investigation. Mr. Nelson Stone, director of the FBI, answered a few questions on the matter._

_“The leaked files have given us great insight into HYDRA and how they operated within SHIELD. It’s ingenious really how they managed to weasel…or slither their way in and stay there like a snake in the grass.” States Stone._

_On the matter of the photograph Mr. Stone refused to speak as to who they believe this man to be, but the real shock came when he told the Associated Press that the man in the photo is credited with numerous kills over the last seventy years. How is that possible?_

_“We aren’t sure,” continued Stone, “But the files show one thing, this man was responsible for numerous assassinations and kills and he certainly doesn’t look that old. We’re using all our sources and digging as far deep as we can.”_ The article continued, but Bucky stopped reading.

“I’m so sorry…” began Nat, interrupting Bucky’s reading. She had read over his shoulder, “I didn’t…I mean I did, but….they don’t know it’s you…I mean how could they. I don’t even know…I mean we had the file…probably copies.”

“It’s alright,” replied Bucky. He didn’t have the energy to care.

“On the topic of you being alive and slowly returning to normal, have you thought about reaching out and seeing if you have any relatives? Steve mentioned you had a sister. She could still be alive.”

            “No!” he stated firmly. Bucky had thought about his little sister Rebecca…she was so much younger that he was and was only ten when he got shipped out. He wondered how her life had gone. If she was even alive. But he knew better than to look. He was dead, dead to her, dead to the world and it would do no good to bring even more skeletons out of the closet.

            “Say, where’s Steve?”

            “Probably with Zinda,” replied Bucky, “Why?”

            “No reason. How about we go into the simulation room and see what you can do with that arm of yours.”

            “You’re on.”

            It took a few minutes for Nat to figure out how to set up the room to be a room fit to spar, Jarvis helped…a little. She set up a virtual gymnastics stage, soft, and sturdy, perfect for that light bounce and easy movements. Bucky had changed into sweats and just kind of stood there, waiting for Natasha to do something. She waited for him to initiate, but saw him hesitating.

So she jumped first, twisting her body to kick him, but he caught her leg, like it was nothing more than a reflex. She brought her second leg over and kicked him in the head, her body twisting, jerking out of his grasp. The shocked jerked his arms away and Natasha’s first leg was free, allowing the assassin to wrap her thighs around his head and bring him down.

But it seemed as if Bucky was expecting this and took her down with him, then using his metal arm to reach out and grabbed her arms, and pulled her down to the ground.

He countered every move she made as if he had studied her. He knew her tactics she noted as she tried different moves within the style. He countered perfectly. Something about his movements was downright specific. Why hadn’t she noticed this before when they fought in DC? Was it because he didn’t remember some things, or was it because of something else?

“Чтоэтобыло?” [What was that?] She asked him.

            “I’m sorry.” Replied Bucky.

            “How did you know…no one knows those moves?”

            Bucky shrugged, “No idea.”

            “Well alright then Bucky.” She shrugged, chuck it to random HYDRA education, she supposed.

            “Don’t call me that.”

            “Bucky? Why not?”

            “That’s what Steve and Zinda call me. He’s old and she’s old in spirit, that’s fine, but…it sounds weird when you say it.”

            “Sorry?!” replied Natasha.

            “Not in a bad way…just…c…call me James.”

            Natasha let out some kind of M related sound, “Well…James it is, then.” She looked at the star on his arm, “or I could call you comrade.” The way that word came out, either her voice or the natural sound of it…it reminded him of something…someone, perhaps that same woman. But what did he know? At this point he wasn’t sure he knew much of anything.

            Tony meanwhile was busy helping Pepper with the new Avengers campaign, handling the vast legal hassles that came with being a public superhero team. Pepper was handling the PR, while Tony tried to do what Pepper asked of him.

            “Excuse me, sir, but there are Agents Wyatt Sobel and Gloria Waylons here. They wish to speak with Captain Rogers. Their facial recognition and badges are legitimate. They are from the FBI.”

            “Send them up to conference room A. I’ll get Steve.” He kissed Pepper and headed upstairs to the bedrooms. He knocked on the door and Steve opened it, with Zinda coming out of the closet dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.  

            “Well, well well, if it isn’t our Drunken Stupor award recipient.” Commented Stark. Zinda waved him off.

            “Tony…” warned Steve.

            “Relax, gotta a nod from Jarvis, some feds here to see you.”

            “Why?”

            “No idea, conference room A.”

            Zinda smiled at Steven, “Let me know how it goes.” She turned to Stark, “You got a gun range in this fancy tower?”

            “Of course, this way.” He pointed her towards the elevators, “Conference Room A” he called back to Steve.

            The captain went towards the other elevator and told it to take him to the conference room. Once inside the room, he saw the two FBI agents talking quietly by the window.

            “Captain Rogers,” said the man, older, rough around the eyes, he had seen many things, likely had been at the Bureau a long time, “I’m Agent Sobel, this is Probationary Agent Waylons.”

            “Nice to meet you, please sit.” They sat down around the large table and Agent Waylons, a woman with very curly dark hair pulled out a number of files out of a bag.

            “Captain Rogers,” began Agent Sobel, “You are aware that currently there are numerous investigation into the SHIELD incident that occurred two months ago?”

            “I am.”

            “One of those investigations is about the mysterious figure known as the Winter Soldier.” Steve nearly chocked, but covered himself quickly, “There are multiple witnesses of you and this…soldier engaging in battle, is that correct.”

            “Yes.”

            “And do you know where this man is?”

            “I have not seen him recently.” Replied Steve, which is not a lie. He hadn’t seen Bucky since he had gone to bring Zinda breakfast.

            “Have you ever come into contact with the Winter Soldier before?”

            Winter Soldier “No, not before the battle at the bridge.”

            “Did you see the Winter Soldier after the hellicarriers went down?”

            “No, we fought, I fell towards the water. Someone fished me out, probably him….and I woke up in the hospital.” Also true. He hadn’t seen Winter Soldier, but he had seen Bucky.

            “Yes, and where is Mr. Samuel Wilson?”

            “I’m not sure at the moment,” replied Steve, “Would you like me to get him.”

            “No…we will speak with him on our own time.”

            “Do you know anything about where the Winter Soldier came from?” asked the woman.

            “No.”

            They asked a lot of questions, some made sense, some didn’t. As soon as he knew they were gone from the building, he asked Jarvis to locate Bucky.

            Bucky and Nat found themselves relaxing on the roof with Zinda, how long had he been in the conference room that she stopped shooting? They were just admiring the soon to turn cold, weather. Steve walked over and sat down beside her. He sat quietly for a second, the other three people exchanging questioning gazes.

            “Something wrong, Steve?” asked Zinda.

            “Two FBI agents just left…they’re looking for Bucky…well not Bucky, Bucky…the Winter Soldier.”  He saw Bucky flinch, “I think I managed to get rid of them.”

            “You lied?” asked Natasha shocked.

            “Kind of…well, I just didn’t tell the whole truth.”

            “Why not?” asked Bucky.

            “What do you mean why not?” asked Steve, “They’re looking for the Winter Soldier so they can put him on trial.”

            “So?”

            “You were the Winter Soldier,” said Steve. Bucky returned him with a sarcastic ‘no kidding’ look and Steve continued, “Bucky…the world today, isn’t like the world we grew up in, laws are different, people are crueler…if they arrest you...”

            Bucky stood up, waving his hands in defeat and started walking away, “You don’t get it.” He turned his head back to look at Steve, “You might be able to forgive what I’ve done, but I can’t. You don’t know what I’m feeling and you don’t understand what it’s like to have everything you once knew stripped from you, to be nothing but a vessel for people to command, like a puppet.

            “He might not,” replied Natasha, “But I do.”

            “Met too,” replied Zinda and all turned to face her, “It was complicated…but Ah went through somethin’ similar, not to the same length of it, of course, but…yeah. Once you come out o’it you start to wonder who you hurt, did ya know them…” But she put on a smile and walked over to Bucky, “Whatchu want to do about the government stooges?”

            Steve looked kind of hurt, but Bucky was moving forward, “Maybe they should just arrest me.” He mouthed and walked away.

            Zinda looked between Natasha and Steve.

            “I just want to protect him,” said Steve “He’s already been through so much and this won’t help.”

            “I know,” replied Natasha, “But Bucky isn’t a delicate flower. He finally has control of his own actions and decisions. Don’t coddle so much.” She left too.

            “I don’t coddle.”

            “Of course not,” said Zinda, “You just want what’s best for him, I get that. But the Rusky has a point. Bucky’s been through a lot. He has to find a way to cope with what he’s done,” Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Zinda continued, “Even if he wasn’t in control of his actions. It was still his body, his hand. It won’t be fixed easily. And now that he knows who he is…it seems like he’s rememberin a few things you both would rather he didn’t.”

            “So what do I do?”

            “Well…I aint no expert on the matter,” replied Zinda, falling onto the chair, letting her back rest and looking up at the stars, “But you could just be there for ‘im. And I know you want to fix things for im, but ya can’t. So be his best friend because that’s all you really have to be.”

            Steve kissed her check and grabbed her hands, “Thank You.”

            “Ya welcome, now, I’m going to head back to the shooting range. Stark gots some serious cool techie things. Want to join me?”

            “I think I’d better go talk to Bucky first,” She returned the kiss and skipped…did Zinda skip? She skipped back towards the elevators and to the shooting range, trigger finger happy.

            He found Bucky in his room staring out the window, “Hey.”

            “hi,” replied the metal armed man.

            “I’m sorry,” said Steve, “I guess…I’m scared of losing you again.” Bucky said nothing, “And I know you’re an adult, and I shouldn’t be acting like a mother hen…I guess…I’m not really sure how to act. I want to be there for you and I guess I don’t really know how to help you. The stuff I’ve given you seemed to jog your memory and you’ve been better…I just…”

            Bucky stood up, “Just…be my pal, okay. That’s all, you don’t have to fix anything. Just…be the person you’ve always been.”

            “I think I can do that. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t stop trying to help you.”

            “I know,” replied Bucky with a chuckle, “I think I might go for a walk.”

            Steve nodded, “Okay, but make sure to put on a cap…and hide your arm and…” Bucky raised his eyebrow at Steve, “Right…back off, sorry….uh….have fun?”

            “Better.”

            Good talk, thought Steve and joined Zinda at the shooting range. Nothing looked more amazing than a beautiful woman with a shotgun. They spent a good hour shooting targets. It was a lot like a date.  

            The day seemed to fly by. Natasha had gotten some work she needed to get done, in relation to things that no one else needed to know and shook her head at the television when the news came on. She had gone on a run earlier and returned with a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Steve and Zinda arrived in the lounge to multiple screens showing various news sources, Fox News, CNN, NBC, MSNBC, and news from outside the US was playing. Everyone was showing footage from the hellicarrier incident and from the battle over the Bridge.

Pepper, Tony, Rhodey, Maria, and Thor and Jane Foster were all present at that moment, along with Dr. Banner.

“What’s going on?” asked Dr. Banner looking up from his book.

 _“Reports confirm that the man has been identified as Code name: Winter Soldier”_ said some burly scary looking guy.

“Huh, that’s not what he told the New York Times two days ago,” replied Stark.

 _“Do you know who this Winter Soldier person is?”_ asked Megyn Kelly of Fox News.

_“Not at the moment, however—”_

_“I’m sorry,”_ Cut in Megyn, her hand next to her ear, _“We just got word that a man claiming to be the Winter Soldier has surrendered himself to NYPD officers.”_

“Oh no,” began Steve, “Please no.”

Natasha looked away from the screen shaking her head.

 _“We are going live to NYPD,”_ The screen changed from the Kelly file to a reporter standing outside the NYPD building.

“Has anyone seen Barnes?” asked Sam worriedly running in, having seen the events on the tv in his room.

 _“Things here are heating up quickly. A man whose name has yet to be released has confessed to being the Winter Soldier.”_ Said a reporter. Captain George Stacy stood in front of a podium next to the FBI agents who had questioned Steve.

  _“The FBI Agents tasked with the case have taken the suspect into custody. The individual has confessed, and stated that his name is James Buchanan Barnes. Further investigation will be handled by the FBI. The NYPD is only too happy to cooperate with the FBI and the federal government. Thank You, no questions at this time.”_

Flashing back to the Kelly File, she turned the tables.

_“Any comments Mr. Stone?”_

_“I was just notified about this…and it happens that…um…my agents have clearly apprehended this individual. As the investigation continues we will be looking or the soonest court date to persecute this individual to the fullest extent of the law.”_

_“I guess the question now is who James Buchanan Barnes is?”_

Before anything else could be stated, other reports were now stating the same things, the televisions were all turned off.

 “Did anyone know about this?” No one said anything, “Stark…do you…do you know any good lawyers?”

“Of course we do,” said Pepper, “Several in fact, but most of them don’t handle criminal charges.”

“My cousin does.” Cut in Banner, “Her name is Jennifer Walters and she can help.”


End file.
